#tyson jost oneshot

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

MARTHA'S IS PRETTY ROMANTIC - CHAPTER TWO: JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY

summary: a lot can happen over two days, but the stand-out event just had to be that time you went to that restaurant and discovered that you didn't really enjoy seeing tyson flirt with other people. also: who the fuck is jamie?

warnings: awkwardness, mentions of anxiety, swearing, alcohol consumption, meddling, sexual tension, jealousy (both parties), tyson kind of being a dick

word count: 9.9k

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Mat and Toni, respectively, were on a mission. Oddly enough, neither of them had actually discussed their missions, because neither one was aware of the other’s mission. Mat didn’t know what Toni had been chatting about with you, and Toni didn’t know what Mat had been talking about with Tyson on the boat the day before.

But they each had a plan.

Both involved leaving you and Tyson alone at any possible opportunity. Take now, for instance, Toni was completely set on wringing the truth out of Mat about you and Tyson – but only after she’d insisted that she and Mat have a wander around some shops by themselves. That way she could kill two birds with one stone: talk to Mat and leave you and Tyson alone. (She had every intention of talking to Mat after tea, but as soon as the door shut…)

It was how you found yourself sitting at the window of yet another cute cafe, Tyson’s hat askew on your head after he kept complaining about it itching his forehead (he’d patted you rather condescendingly on your cheek when he placed it on you), the man himself at the till ordering your breakfast. There was a gift shop opposite, and it had taken approximately three people to walk out, all bearing paper bags for the idea to come to you.

“A cappuccino with pancakes, milady.” The tray was placed in front of you, as was a glass bottle with am orchid poking out of the top, and you looked up to come face to face with a grinning Tyson, who, after sitting down opposite you, rubbed his hands excitedly, “Fuck me, I’m starving.”

Your eyes wearily scanned over the heads of people in the near vicinity, a little worried that some kid had overheard, but everyone seemed consumed in their own company – no children in sight. You sat up a little straighter.

Martha’s was pretty romantic, wasn’t it?

You swallowed, trying to clear your mind, and almost as soon as your eyes landed on the food in front of you, you felt your stomach rumble loudly, “Me too.”

Tyson nodded, mouth full of his own stack of pancakes, and you stifled a laugh at his impatience, taking a sip of the coffee. 

It had been less awkward than you’d initially expected – waking up next to Tyson – considering the comments you’d so thoughtlessly said. He’d actually not even been in bed when you’d woken up, and it took you getting dressed and wandering downstairs to find him also dressed, sitting on the porch swing with a glass of juice as he watched the water peacefully.

(You would have gone back inside after finding him, had he not spotted you and patted the place next to him – but you decided the extra time with him couldn’t hurt. And anyway, you’d both mostly just sat in silence, not really having anything to say.)

It wasn’t until you’d finished eating your pancakes, both your cups of coffee half-empty that you started talking, his eyes instantly snapping to yours, “I think I’m going to get something for Mat and Toni as a thank you for letting me crash their vacation, d’you want in on it?”

Tyson nodded, “Sounds good. You got any ideas?”

You shook your head, “There’s a gift shop across the street, I thought we could start there?”

“That’s fine by me.” 

You offered a small smile, wondering if you were imagining the tension as Tyson averted his eyes back out of the window. 

And you also didn’t know if he noticed your lingering stares, or if he purposefully chose to ignore it altogether. In fact, you were sure you’d rather it be the former, but you weren’t exactly being subtle. It was always pretty easy to notice when someone had just looked away from you when you looked straight at them – and each time Tyson caught you, you could almost draw the look on his face as he pressed his lips together to muffle a smirk.

“You done?” Tyson leant forwards across the table, peering into your empty coffee mug.

“Yeah.” You nodded, grabbing your bag from the back of your chair, a little distracted by something as your eyes scanned every person sitting at the table.

There were flowers on each table, as well as a few candles, and above the door were more flowers, and everything seemed to be a shade of pastel. The entire cafe seemed…lovey. Ribbons were wrapped around the cakes, and when you thought about it, even your pancake had a heart drawn out in whipped cream.

You hadn’t noticed you weren’t paying full attention to your surroundings until Tyson’s hand shot out to move a chair out of your way, knuckles protecting your leg from an inevitable bruise.

“Are you okay?” He mumbled, and you met his eyes, nodding a little overwhelmed.

His eyes were flickering across your face, no trace of a smile on his lips as he opened his mouth again. You waited for him to say something, but instead he stayed put and silent. It wasn’t until he raised his brows, more out of concern than amusement, that you remembered he’d asked you a question and you hadn’t answered.

“I’m fine.” You said weakly, flashing a tight smile.

He clearly didn’t buy it, but he nodded and continued the winding journey around the tables to get to the door, you at his heels, where he held the door open for you.

It was almost a relief to see the pavement and breathe in non-baked-treat air. It seemed to calm your raging mind – from where that little thing had come from, you didn’t quite know, but it was weird. 

It wasn’t until Tyson was stepping up next to you, a strange look on his face that you realised quite what it was.

It was panic. 

What for?

You didn’t quite know.

“You sure you’re good?” He asked, “You look a bit shaken up.”

“I’m fine, I just didn’t realise how…cutesy everything was here.”

He tilted his head, “What do you mean?”

You swallowed, looking right to avoid his stare. It felt insignificant and a little embarrassing to be admitting it out loud, but this was Tyson.

You’d passed him neon dino undies last night.

“Martha’s is pretty romantic, you were right.” You mumbled, crossing your arms protectively.

His face didn’t waver one bit, and you were glad, “Thought you said you weren’t allergic to romance?”

Your shoulders shrugged before you could stop it, “I wouldn’t really know.”

Tyson swallowed, a little confused by your words. You still looked distracted, eyes bouncing everywhere, cheeks a little red. If he didn’t know better, he’d have assumed you were about to bolt back to the house, but you stayed cemented to the concrete beneath your shoes, completely unmoving. 

And he was about to inquire as to what you meant by that, because his mind was running around pretty quickly.

You wouldn’t know if you were allergic to romance? He had some serious questions, and if his hunch was right, he was about to get pretty pissed with some specific people that you—

Your eyes had settled. They were still moving, but the motion was less hectic and stressed. He followed your gaze, mouth parting at what you were looking at. It was an elderly couple walking down the other side of the street, hands clasped together, and bright smiles plastered on their faces as they conversed with each other.

Oh.

“You…” He started, trailing off. If he was being honest, he wasn’t quite sure where to start that conversation, or if he should start it.

But he knew what you were trying to say.

You turned to him, brow raised and a sigh leaving your mouth, “The gift shop?” 

He just nodded.

***

You and Tyson were the first ones back at the house, feet sore and legs a little achy, immediately seeking out the comfort of the soft sofa cushions, deep sighs of satisfaction released from your very souls. Neither of you said a word to each other as Tyson took one end of the sofa and you took the other, feet stretched and overlapping in the centre, eyes glued to the TV screen.

There were much better views to be had in the house alone; the porch swing you’d both sat at earlier was wonderful, but once you’d walked through the front door, all of that logic had just vanished the moment the sofa was in your eyeline. It was comfy – much too comfy to even consider the thought of having to haul yourself up and walk back outside.

By the time the front door opened and the sound of Mat and Toni’s voices travelled through the corridor, Tyson was asleep, head resting uncomfortably on his shoulder, and you were blinking sleepily, the bags by the side of the sofa just out of reach.

“Oh, they’re here–”

You widened your eyes, a finger pressed to your lips as you pointed at Tyson’s sleeping form. His arms were folded against his chest, and it took Mat to lean over his head to see his closed eyes for him to believe you. He pulled a shocked face, disappearing into the hall where Toni was lining up their own bags at the bottom of the stairs, and dragged her out into the living room to laugh at Tyson.

“He’s gonna be so sore when he wakes up.” Mat whispered, once again eyeing Tyson’s positioning, “What did you do to him?”

You shrugged, “Nothing, we just walked around all day. We actually got you guys something, but I’d wait until he wakes up first.”

Toni silently cooed, a hand over her heart as she rounded the sofa to get a look at Tyson, “How long has he been asleep?”

“About twenty minutes.”

“Can I get a photo of you two?” Toni asked, already pulling out her phone, and you hesitated, eyes drifting to the way Tyson’s curls seemed to hang over his eyes with the low angle of his head. 

He looked kind of adorable, actually. It wasn’t until Toni was encouraging you to look at the camera that you realised it was the first time you’d actually seen him asleep – he’d woken up earlier than you in the morning, and you’d both slept back-to-back in bed, limbs almost hanging off the edges because you were both too conscious of accidentally touching each other.

In fact, now that you were thinking about it, you weren’t sure he even slept a full eight hours. You’d both gone to bed pretty late, and he’d woken up early – you thought at the time the puffy-eyes were because he’d only just woken up, but now you were looking at him so completely out of it, that it had you wondering if he actually got any sleep at all.

You smiled as best as you could, though after Toni had lowered her phone, it dropped instantly. Mat fidgeted from the doorway, bringing bags of groceries through into the kitchen and shooting you a questioning glance.

“Should we wake him up?” He asked, wandering back into the living room, something else hidden in his eyes. It felt like you were missing something, but you weren’t well-versed enough in the ‘looks’ of Mr Barzal to catch onto what he was trying to ask.

You shook your head, “I don’t know if he slept properly last night. He went to sleep after me and he’d been out of bed a while by the time I went downstairs.”

“When did you wake up?”

“Eight-ish.”

Mat nodded, swallowing, before nodding, “Leave him until we’ve done dinner.”

You agreed, your attention going back to the TV until Mat and Toni had left the room. Then you turned to Tyson, where his feet were by your head, him pressed into the back of the sofa and you on the edge. If you moved or got out, you weren’t sure if he’d wake up at the lack of warmth, or if he’d be disturbed by the sofa dipping. 

So you decided to stay put until Mat and Toni started cooking. Then, and very carefully, you peeled yourself off the cushions, cringing everytime Tyson seemed to twitch or move in his sleep – which was more or less successful, especially when you dared to risk putting a cushion between his head and shoulder, attempting to alleviate the inevitable neck cramp he’d experience when he’d wake up later.

And even though none of you were trying to be quiet, pottering around in the kitchen or conversing (the TV was also still on), Tyson still didn’t wake up. In fact, he seemed to slip further from the arm of the sofa until he was laid horizontally on the cushions, rolling over at one point to face the back. 

It would have been endearing if you weren’t so worried about him.

And even after all the food had been cooked, and even after you’d filled him a plate up, not even the smell could wake him up.

“You gonna wake him up? Yeah, thanks.” It was Mat, escaping quickly out of the back door and joining Toni on the patio, leaving you alone in the kitchen, your sole focus still glued on the curly haired brunette curled up.

For some reason you’d expected Tyson to snore.

You stood at the front of the sofa, arms crossed. Waking people up was always a tricky thing to do, especially because it was always strangers you had to rouse; people were fussy and mardy about being woken up, but some people were impossible.

And you had a feeling Tyson belonged in the latter group, with the way he’d slept through the noise and commotion.

“Tys?” You asked, rather awkwardly trying to avoid touching him.

Nothing.

You sighed, reaching down to his jean-clad knee and shaking it. When that didn’t work, you contemplated tickling his feet, but the risk of getting kicked in the face was a little off-putting, and then you found yourself poking his cheek. Judging by the warmth radiating off him, you gathered he was pretty snug.

You threw a cautious glance over your shoulder, checking to ensure no one was watching through the window into the back garden, before kneeling down in front of the sofa, by Tyson’s head, and – rather nervously – reaching a hand into his hair. If nothing else worked, head or back scratches were always a pretty good shot.

“Tyson?” You murmured, nails gently scratching his scalp (his hair was softer than you’d imagined), and getting caught in his curls.

It took you using your other hand to flick his earlobe for a sign of life: he hummed, rolling onto his back and simultaneously forcing your hands off him. His eyes were still shut, face half-screwed up, and you held back a small laugh at his sleepy state.

“Tys,” you started, voice soft, “dinner’s ready.”

He slowly blinked awake, eyes immediately squinting at the lights above, before yawning and rolling his head towards you and scratching the beginnings of his facial hair on his chin, clearly a little confused.

“What?” He mumbled, a crease between his brows as he pushed himself up onto his elbows.

“Dinner. We’re eating outside.” You stood, pointing to the back door, where you knew he’d be able to see the outside lights from where he was laying.

“Already?” He asked, swinging his legs over the side and lifting his bare wrist up to his face, “What time is it?”

“Six.” 

His eyes widened, and he stood up next to you, stretching and groaning at the relief in his joints. A rough palm cupped the side of his neck and he frowned at the dull ache, “How come no one woke me up?”

“We weren’t sure how much sleep you got.” You said, a little uncertain.

He nodded, though, but didn’t say anything else on the matter, “It takes a day or two for me to be able to sleep in a bed that’s not mine.”

You nodded, your gaze sympathetic as you led him to the back door, where Mat and Toni were sitting at the outside table opposite each other, drinks in hand and pasta bowls full, two empty seats next to them. When Tyson followed behind you, Mat cheered and Toni made a joke, but Tyson only shrugged, taking the seat opposite you, immediately digging into his food.

You snuck glances at him throughout the meal, noticing he had a little more colour than earlier – which wasn’t something you immediately noticed – and that the bags under his eyes looked less severe. Letting him sleep had clearly been the right idea.

“Right.” Mat clapped his hands together, before pointing to the conservatory behind Tyson and Toni, “Pool tournament anyone?”

You froze, mid-sip of your G&T, a pebble of dread settling in your stomach. Automatically, your eyes flickered to Tyson opposite, hoping he’d provide you with some reaction, but he was looking straight at Mat, a competitive gleam in his eye as he grinned, “I’m down. What’re the teams?”

And because you were still looking at Tyson over the top of your glass, admiring his almost childlike excitement, you missed the look Toni shared with Mat.

“Me and Tyson?” Toni spoke up, twirling with her earring as her attention focused on you.

In fact, after you’d swallowed another mouthful of your drink, all three pairs of eyes were on you, and you hastily turned to Mat, finding yourself nodding before you could even dare to protest.

You’d expected Mat to go with Toni considering their relationship and all, but you were probably in pretty secure hands if Mat was your teammate too (besides, you got the impression he’d probably be a little more honest with you than Tyson).

It was how you found yourself in the conservatory thirty-seven minutes later, holding a pool cue and dreading your turn. 

You hadn’t played pool in ages, and your skill wasn’t that great then, so you’d prepared yourself for a game of failure and maybe a little embarrassment, but the alcohol would hopefully give you the confidence to embrace that fact.

Only, it seemed you didn’t have to worry too much about your ability, because everyone else was a little too inebriated to concentrate on hitting the ball accurately, and by the time it got to your turn, the only thing you couldn’t play off as the alcohol was actually holding the cue in your hands. You placed a hand on the table, mindful of the nearby balls, and lifted your palm onto your fingertips, slotting the cue between the crevice of your thumb and pointer finger. 

Now for the aim: you looked down the cue, lining it up with the cue ball, which was also straight on and in line with a solid ball. If you slammed the cue ball into the solid ball, you’d knock it against the side and…more or less near a pocket.

In your peripherals you could hear Mat and Toni muttering to each other, shoulder to shoulder – clearly no love lost even despite the competition – and you inhaled, steadying your hands, before pulling the cue back and smacking the cue ball; only your angle was a little off, and the ball landed…just shy of the pocket.

You stood up, unable to help beaming to yourself. It wasn’t as bad as you’d initially predicted. 

“Boom.” Mat stepped forward, knuckles bumping against yours in celebration.

“You can do the next one.” You mumbled, taking a step towards the shelf on the wall and drinking a mouthful of your drink.

When you turned back around, the first thing you saw was Tyson. He was standing on the opposite side of the table, both hands clasping his cue, and his eyes were trained on you. He caught your stare, pointedly glancing back at the table before mouthing ‘you’re going down, fucker’.

You stifled a grin, and if it were months earlier, you’d have probably teased back something along the lines of ‘on who, you?’, but this was now, and something had admittedly changed the entire dynamic of your friendship – probably for the worse, because as much as you tried to deny it, with all the odd tense moments, there was something beginning to nag at the back of your mind that nothing good could come of it, and you were downright petrified of even the thought of not having Tyson in your life.

So you stuck your middle fingers up at him in playful competitiveness, a dead serious look on your face, ‘in your fucking dreams’.

The smirk and adamant shake of his head in response did nothing to change the fact that you and Mat absolutely thrashed Tyson and Toni. So much so that Tyson pushed you into the pool after teasing him too much, though not before you could grab his shirt and pull him in after you.

You both went to bed with aching cheeks after that.

***

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you looked up at the owner of the shadow that had darkened the printed words in your book significantly – not that you needed to look at him; you would have recognised his voice through a fucking whisper – and faced an extremely familiar silhouette, blocking your strip of sun on the lounger. His chest was heaving a little and his entire upper body seemed to be glistening with sweat, even to the edge of his curls as they caught the sunlight, and he stood before you with his hands on his hips, looking undeniably and frustratingly attractive, “where were you this morning?”

You blinked, finding some semblance of safety and solace behind the dark lenses of your sunglasses, eyes secretly roaming…everywhere. You weren’t aware of the phenomenon of someone getting unbearably more attractive by the day, but you were absolutely certain the person standing in front of you was experiencing it in real-time.

Like the day before, you’d woken up by yourself in bed. The sting of disappointment was still there, but you’d managed to get yourself used to it; your expectations were lower and a part of you seemed to acknowledge the fact that his hockey schedule had his internal clock waking up about two hours earlier than you. According to Toni, the same went for Mat, too.

His broad shoulder shrugged, “I went to the gym with Mat and then we both went on a run for a bit. Why, d��you miss me?”

“I just haven’t seen you before ten in the morning, yet.” You excused, moving your hand to shield yourself from the onslaught of the sun – to say it was late morning and the back garden at the house Mat had rented was facing away from the sun, it wasn’t half blazing.

Tyson raised his brows, his cheeks still a little red from the exercise, “You mean you want to see me before ten?”

In truth, somehow you felt as though things between you and Tyson had eased a little – despite the fact this was the first time you were even interacting with the man since last night; something had just been sorted. It felt as though a squeaky joint had been oiled, though you felt partially that it was the buffer of one day separating you from the awkward comment you’d made about dressing him.

Nevertheless, you welcomed the previous ease with a smile and a fluttering heart. After all, he was standing in front of you perfectly tanned and sweaty and with a glorious smile on his face as he looked straight at you. There wasn’t really anything you could complain about.

“I mean,” you started, “I’d like to at least wake up with you in bed.”

He swallowed, “Oh, really?”

“It’d make me feel less like a lazy-ass.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“No.” For some reason, you were gripped by a sense of boldness that had never really shown itself, “I bet you look cute in your PJ’s.”

Even in the ensuing silence you didn’t take your eyes off of him. It felt like a pointless exercise at this point.

Except, what he answered next seemed to just blow your mind into smithereens.

“I only wear boxers.”

The shorts he’d gone jogging in weren’t all that long compared to the usual sports attire you’d seen him in and the tease of imagining him in only boxers – like the night you’d made that god-awful comment – sent your mind spiralling and your cheeks heating in misplaced anticipation. You knew he looked good in boxers; anything that highlighted the bulk of his thighs and the muscles in his chest and abs seemed to do the job, and knowing that each night so far he’d been sleeping in so little couldn’t help but render you into speechlessness.

Still, you feigned indifference, “I stand by what I just said.”

“I wear a PJ-based outfit nearly everyday,” he excused, swiping a hand across his face, “I’m gonna go shower and then I’ll come back out. Where’s Mat and Toni?”

“Toni’s wandering around and Mat’s in the shower I think.”

“In that case, I’ll be back down soon.”

“‘Kay.”

And Tyson remained true to his promise, returning not even ten minutes later wearing a pair of swimming trunks and a smile as he plopped down on the empty bed next to you, a bottle of sunscreen in his hand. Your eyes remained loyally on the book in your hands, even as he began lathering himself in sunscreen, his skin almost shimmering in the glint of the sunlight.

At least, you didn’t look until his struggle became a little obvious.

“Do you think you could get my back? Please?” He asked, twisting from where he was sitting, the bottle still in his hand but within reachable distance.

In all honesty, you never even had the thought to say no. Why would you?

“Sure.” You tucked your bookmark into the crease of your book, placing it on the bed before swinging your legs over the side of the lounger, choosing to spray the suncream onto the palms of your hands first instead of straight onto his back.

It was no secret that Tyson, along with the general hockey population, had broad shoulders. It was hard to miss; sometimes the seams on his t-shirts stretched a little too much for comfort, or sometimes the seams just simply weren’t aligned with the angles and joints of his shoulders. It wasn’t something you hadn’t noticed before, but it was a whole other thing to experience when your hands were touching him.

He was warm, and his skin was deliciously soft. 

It was actually the first time you’d ever touched him skin-to-skin, and he seemed to remember that fact entirely when he shivered, bending his head to his feet to hide the planes of his face from your suspicious eyes. Only, once you’d touched him, it seemed to leave an uncomfortable tingling in your palms.

“Hang on, I think I missed a spot.” You mumbled, squirting some more lotion into your hands.

The relief seemed to kick in when your hands were back on his skin once more, and the confusion of that realisation seemed to send your heart hammering so forcefully against your ribs that it was almost painful.

Tyson’s back was so covered in suncream by the end of it, you’d be shocked if he even got any tanning done in the first place. 

He cleared his throat when you clicked the lid back on the bottle, but when he turned back around, there was a little extra something in his eyes when he looked at you. His eyes usually were softer with you, but there was something else hidden in the depths of the dark pools; something you couldn’t quite translate, because you’d never exactly seen that specific kind of look directed at you.

Ever.

You swallowed, trying to ignore the immediate and instantaneous flush of your cheeks as you ducked your head, tucking some hair behind your ear just to give your hands something else to do to distract yourself from the dissatisfaction at not touching him still.

You thought the idea of losing Tyson was the most terrifying thing you’d ever imagined, but it was nothing compared to the devastation you could experience if it meant you’d never be able to do…that. 

And that seemed to send you spiralling a little.

Until, of course, he intervened.

“Do you want me to do your back?” He posed, an empty hand held out.

You nodded, swinging your legs over the other side of the lounger. If anything it gave you time to stall and reorganise your own face so that when you inevitably looked at him again, you’d at least appear somewhat normal.

This is what Tyson had meant when he’d told Mat your relationship was complicated.

His hands were like an antidote to the thoughts swirling in your mind, and for a brief moment, everything went silent. He took his time, hands even smoothing under the strap of your bikini, yet not straying into disrespectful territory. You wondered if he was having the same internal monologue as you, but even though you tried to ignore it, there was a small part of you wondering if this was something he had come to terms with a while ago – especially if he’d told that to Mat so long ago.

Nothing seemed to quieten your mind when, not even five minutes later, you turned back to your book. Your eyes were skimming pointlessly over the words, but nothing was quite registering, the main voice heard being the one in your mind, practically screaming mindless and senseless theories at you whilst Tyson laid peacefully next to you.

***

The rest of the day seemed to go by like someone had held in a fast-forward button: nothing but a blur of light and colours or a cacophony of sound. You knew nothing extensively productive had been done; mostly just relaxing by the beach and pool respectively, trying to recuperate the energy everyone had burnt and spent yesterday.

And naturally, after a full day of lounging around, you’d all pretty much agreed dinner out was the best way to go: you’d yet to go to a local restaurant, and no one could really be bothered actually cooking after the barbeque yesterday (there was also the washing up, and absolutely no one was willing to stick their hands in a scalding tub of water in this hot weather).

It took about ten minutes to decide on which restaurant to choose that’d cater to everyone’s tastes, and you were pretty glad at how it had turned out. The place wasn’t too busy, and by the time you’d all sat down at the table and already managed to work your way through two rounds of drinks, the role of ordering the next round had miraculously fallen to you.

It was how you found yourself leaning against a sticky bartop, forearms aching slightly at the pressure of leaning against the wood. The drinks you’d had so far hadn’t kicked in yet or provided you with some relief to get away from Tyson’s burning gaze and dim the sharp awareness you seemed to have developed in the last twenty-four hours, but even so, you didn’t notice the figure next to you until he’d shuffled close enough for you to smell his cologne and feel the material of his shirt against your bare upper arm.

“Woah.” You muttered, taking a sidestep to avoid getting shoved into.

Luckily, the guy didn’t follow your movements, but when you turned to see what had happened, he was wearing a friendly smile and holding his hand out for you to shake – not only was it a little creepy, probably trouble, but it was entirely inconvenient considering the fact that you could still feel Tyson’s searing stare on you from the other side of the room.

Your skin prickled with it, and you felt kind of glad you’d been told to get the next round because at least it was an excuse to get some fresh air without feeling so on edge all the time (and it wasn’t even like Tyson had done anything – that was all you, which made it all the more difficult to deal with).

“Sorry, I tried getting your attention but I don’t think you heard me.” The man explained politely, his hand still suspended between you both, “I’m Jamie.”

You tilted your head, taking him in. There was something about him that was vaguely familiar, like you’d either met him before or he just had one of those annoying faces that reminded you of someone you couldn’t put your finger on; he had thick blonde hair that curled under his ears and seemed to fall in layers on the top of his head, and very clear sea-green eyes. There was a rugged handsomeness about him, and whilst you pasted a polite smile on your face, you shook his hand.

And almost as soon as you made the move to do so, his face seemed to crumple as his brows furrowed and his lips parted – all attempts at possibly flirting flying right out of his head.

“Do I know you?”

“Have we met before?”

You spoke at the same time, both now wearing equal expressions of confusion, and unable to help laughing a little awkwardly, minds racing.

You introduced yourself, wondering if your name might ring a bell, but he shook his head, the creases on his forehead deepening. 

“Nothing.” He said, “I do know you, though.”

It was a blunt thing to say to a stranger, and if it weren’t for the way your brain seemed to also be spinning you’d have probably run the opposite way, but you felt glued to the spot. It was like your brain wouldn’t let you move until you figured out just what significance Jamie had in your life.

“Where did you grow up?” He asked, tapping his fingers against the bartop, his eyes momentarily leaving you to flicker to the front of the line.

No one had budged: there was only one bartender, and apparently everyone ahead of you in the queue had also been designated to buy the next round and was ordering drinks for their groups, because each person was taking a while to be served. 

“Minnesota.” You answered, “You?”

This was fucking weird.

“Fort Mac. College?”

“Penn State.”

“UBC.” He sighed, scratching the scruff on his chin and letting out a sound that was somewhere between a frustrated huff and a psychotic cackle.

It made you smile a little.

“Where do you live now, if you don’t mind me asking?” You asked, raising a brow.

He could be a friend’s ex? Or an old work colleague? A family friend? A neighbour?

Jamie swung his gaze back to you, and there was a flicker of something that seemed to click in your mind. A fragment of a memory – it was a split second of a frame of something, but the face in it was younger: his cheeks were a little fuller and he didn’t have any facial hair.

But before you could grasp onto it, the flicker of recognition seemed to dissipate completely, leaving you just as clueless as before.

“Fuck.” You groaned, “I thought I had it, then.”

Jamie laughed, it was a deep, gravelly sound that seemed to resonate in your bones, and from where you’d put your hand against your head in frustration, you turned to him.

He was actually quite pretty for a man. It was a realisation, sure, but with that also came the knowledge that when you thought that thought, you felt…nothing. There was nothing. 

Oh no.

You swallowed, risking a glance back at your table to see Tyson chatting to Toni about something, and almost instantly the symptoms seemed to kick in: your hands got clammy and your pulse picked up. Your eyes caught Mat over all the customers, and he flashed a concerned thumbs up, clearly hinting at Jamie, and you offered a smile, repeating his action, before turning back to the man at hand.

You must really like Tyson.

Like a lot.

You cleared your throat, trying to distract yourself from the way your thoughts seemed to take a spiral down and remove you from your present being, but before you could even conjure up something to say, Jamie had gasped – as far as a man of his stature could do such a thing.

“I know.” He stuttered, pointing a finger at you with a wild look in his eyes, “I live in Vancouver right now, but you live in Buffalo, right?” He asked, talking quickly as though he was afraid he’d lose his train of thought mid sentence.

All you could do was nod.

“We met before at a hockey game in Vancouver, it was against Buffalo, and you were in the drinks line with a friend and you guys overheard me tell my buddy about something–”

Tyson felt off – only he knew the sole reason for the off-feeling and also knew what the off-feeling was: it didn’t take much guessing or analysing on his behalf. All he had to do was sneak a glance at you out of the corner of his eye (Toni was still talking to him, but every so often he felt like his eyes were just pulled in your general vicinity), and the reason for the prickle of his jealousy was staring right back at him.

There was a guy talking to you. Tyson wouldn’t have minded at all if it didn’t look like you two knew each other, or the fact that as the line grew shorter your conversation seemed to get more animated. You’d been laughing, the guy had been laughing, and Tyson wasn’t unaware of the fact that he was attractive.

No, that was a fact he was painfully aware of.

And he knew the whole jealous thing wasn’t necessarily a possessive spirit, because instead of feeling the need to walk over and interrupt, all he felt was a vague swell of panic that had been slowly building under his sternum and had spread out across his ribs. He felt his heart rate pick up and his mind disconnect itself from Toni’s conversation (she wa a little tipsier than everyone else, and Mat was involved in the conversation too, so he assumed Toni wouldn’t be able to pick up on his lack of presence), and he had to swallow the rising lump in his throat.

He’d never been affected by you like that before, and a part of him knew it was because whenever you two would see each other outside of hockey fixtures, it’d just be the two of you, which meant he was blissfully unaware of other people’s intentions with you. In fact, when he thought about it, he didn’t think he could ever remember feeling threatened by someone else that could hurt his chances with you – although at the time he hadn’t had any kind of hope that you’d reciprocated his buried feelings, so things were a little different.

Even so, he still wasn’t sure about how you felt, and he was far too much of a chicken to outright ask you.

Something drove against his shin under the table, pulling him out of his thoughts. He turned straight to Mat, who was shooting him a pointed glare and subtly nodding his head in Toni’s direction and Tyson had the horrid feeling as though he’d just been caught ignoring her.

He cleared his throat, turning to Toni with an apologetic smile, “Sorry, what were you saying?”

Toni took a sip of her drink, trying to hide the knowing smile on her face. Tyson might have unintentionally not heard what she’d said, but one glance at his eyeline gave her all the answers she could ever need, and for that, she rather found Tyson getting distracted amusing (even if she repeatedly said his name to get his attention – Tyson could do little wrong in her eyes, ever).

“I was asking if you had any ideas on what we could do tomorrow?” Toni repeated gently.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. Tyson was thinking, but his mind was blank. All he could picture was the word and Toni’s face as she waited patiently for an answer.

He cleared his throat, “I don’t know, what’re you guys thinking?”

“We were thinking we all do our own thing and then have a movie night?” Mat proposed, shrugging as he kept one arm over the back of your empty chair. And like there was some magnetic pull towards you, Tyson flickered his attention over to you.

He wished he hadn’t. 

The guy was scribbling something down on a piece of paper, and you took it from him with a smile.

Tyson ducked his head, staring into the bottom of his empty beer glass, a little despondent, “Yeah, that sounds fine by me.” He mumbled, completely missing the shared look between Mat and Toni.

“You okay, Tys?” Mat asked, and though he was somewhat amused by his friend’s lovesick symptoms, he was equally as concerned for his quietness. Tyson wasn’t usually so silent; most of the time he was always engaged in some kind of enthusiastic conversation – and it was pretty rare that he wasn’t smiling.

He just nodded, changing the subject, “Why don’t you guys use those spa vouchers we got you for tomorrow?”

“Oh,” Toni hummed, looking at Mat, “That sounds like a nice idea.”

“Yeah, we can do that.” Mat agreed.

“Sorry it took so long, the queue was pretty slow.” You retook your seat, the previous conversation coming to an abrupt end – causing you to raise a curious brow.

Your eyes swept right over Mat and Toni, both of whom eagerly took their drinks off the tray muttering their thank you’s, and came to rest on Tyson. He took his drink all the same, but there was a weight and heaviness on his face – it looked like concentration with the way his mouth had twisted to one side, but he hadn’t even acknowledged your presence.

“Is everything okay?” You directed the question to the group, but your eyes slipped unintentionally to Tyson, who shrugged.

“Yeah, we were just talking about tomorrow. Mat and I are gonna use those spa vouchers you got us.” Toni explained, and you nodded.

“Sounds like a plan.” 

And with that, the conversation started flowing again – but your attention was still somewhat tied to Tyson, who still hadn’t said anything.

You tried to get his attention by sneaking unsubtle glances at him in the hopes he’d look back, but it worked to no avail. 

“I need the bathroom.” He excused himself quickly, not making eye contact with anyone at the table before he’d turned on his heel to make his way to the bathroom. There was a patterned divider screen paving the short corridor before his figure completely disappeared from view as the door shut behind him.

When you turned back to Toni and Mat, the question of whether he was alright or not died on your tongue at the way they were both looking at you.

“What?” You questioned, your hand immediately going to rest against the cool glass of your drink. 

They were both looking at you with identical expressions of something on their faces, but you couldn’t quite place the meaning of it.

It was Mat who took the liberty of answering your question, “He saw you talking to that guy at the bar.”

Oh.

“So?”

Toni laughed softly, “So he got jealous.”

You felt yourself pull a face at her words, almost scoffing in disbelief, but no words came to mind. 

“You two did look pretty cosy.” Toni continued, arching a brow in your direction as she elegantly took a sip of wine, peering at you over the top of her glass.

“We weren’t flirting.” You excused, shaking your head as your eyes went back to the divider near the bathroom.

“Josty didn’t know that.” Mat said, “But he did see you guys laughing–”

“And he saw the piece of paper he gave you.”

“There was a piece of paper?” Mat’s eyes widened, before he winced, “Ouch.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes, “His name is Jamie and we met a few months ago at a Buffalo-Vancouver game and he gave me his number, yeah, but it was because he mentioned his company had a position in his Buffalo office–”

“He offered you a job?” Mat tilted his head in your direction, shock clearly written across his features.

You shook your head, “He told me about a job; it pays better than my current one and it doesn’t involve a fifty-minute commute. I think I’d be pretty crazy not to consider it.”

They were both silent.

“So he really wasn’t flirting?” Mat double-checked, and you sighed, a little frustrated.

“He tried to, but I told him I wasn’t interested.”

“Why?” Toni shot back, interest in her eyes.

You huffed, and maybe if you weren’t already a little tipsy, you’d have said something about not knowing why, but the alcohol currently in your system as well as the sips you’d taken from your new round made you a little less self-conscious of being honest…at least to a certain extent, “Because he’s not my type.” You shrugged.

“And your type is what, exactly?”

And then you went silent. The hand clasped around your glass seemed to react before you could register what you were doing, but you raised the glass and took a mouthful.

Mat, however, seemed to have the opposite reaction. He slumped comfortably in his chair, a lazy smirk on his lips, “Your type is Tyson.” 

And if you were being honest, the thing that stung you most wasn’t necessarily the truth: that perhaps the pinnacle of ‘your type’ was Tyson after all, but the fact that other people had caught on. You weren’t entirely aware your recent not-so-subtle crush on Tyson had been obvious – mostly considering it was a realisation that you’d come to within the last few days.

“Come on, you guys have liked each other for months–”

What. The. Fuck.

“What the fuck.” You breathed, unable to help the comment slip out of your mouth in shock, “No.”

Mat frowned, his brows knitting together as he shook his head in your direction, an adamant expression on his face as he seeked out Toni for reassurance, “Yes.”

You inhaled sharply, hand now pressed against the table, “No, I didn’t figure that out until literally two days ago. I’m only now realising that I’ve been crushing on him this entire time. Some fucking denial…”

Once more, a shroud of silence seemed to envelope the entire table. Mat remained frozen, crazy eyes fixated on you (not that you blamed him, you weren’t entirely sure you weren’t making this entire conversation up in your own head at this point), and Toni’s mouth had dropped in shock.

Then, something seemed to crawl across your skin. It was a prickle of foreboding, something that could have been easily mistaken for anxiety had you not had the displeasure of experiencing said emotion firsthad, but this kind was unfamiliar.

Again, like your body was trying to tell you something, your eyes circled back to the divide near the bathroom.

Something sour immediately seemed to collect in your stomach, and you swallowed harshly, tearing your eyes away from the scene with a curl of displeasure fogging your brain, “Looks like you were wrong on his behalf, though.”

In his defence, Tyson was ambushed. He was wholly and honestly ambushed right from the second he stepped out of the bathroom door. He hadn’t seen it coming; though who could? She’d been blocking his path back to the table completely and he couldn’t even say he’d ever seen her before, and the second she introduced herself with that sultry smile he knew what was about to happen. It was something that had happened numerous times before, and not something he could say was exactly convenient in that exact moment – especially if you were to look straight over, because from your seat he knew you had a pretty solid view of the doors, kind of like how he’d had a pretty solid view of the bar not even ten minutes ago.

Perhaps it was karma. Maybe it was a coincidence. Or maybe it was an opportunity to get back at you, to see just how you’d act when he sat back down at the table. If you were completely normal, he’d know for certain you weren’t even the slightest bit interested, but if you weren’t? Well, he’d definitely take note and then have to ask Mat how to proceed because he wasn’t that good at stuff like that.

Though, he tended to be good at it when you were involved, but that was riding on a major ‘if’.

It was why he (rather cruelly) entertained himself in the conversation with the lady clearly waiting for him. She was bold, he’d give her that, but she wasn’t you – could never be you.

“Are you liking Martha’s so far?” She asked, tilting her head seductively in his direction, and Tyson physically restrained himself from sneaking a glance in your direction.

“Yeah, it’s pretty incredible. Good views, and all. What about you, you having fun?” He couldn’t ever say he was good at talking to people he didn’t know, because if he did he was sure he’d be branded some kind of world-class liar, but he attempted it, at least for appearance’s sake.

“I mean,” She laughed, placing an unwanted hand on his bicep that he’d luckily kept covered with a blazer, “I could be having more fun, if you get my drift.” She raised an eyebrow, and to be polite, Tyson shuffled out of her grip subtly, and although she dropped her hand, the smirk on her face remained pretty steady.

He laughed a little awkwardly, something between a grimace and a smile on his face, “I do, but I’m taken.” He lied easily, this time momentarily making direct eye contact with you for a brief second. He couldn’t decide if his heart simply stuttered or actually stopped beating, but he swore when you looked away he’d never felt so aware of what he was doing.

He was being a dick just to get a reaction out of you.

“Oh.” The girl’s expression dropped and she took a respectful step back, “I apologise.”

“No need, I...” Tyson shrugged, trailing off pathetically.

Then she turned around, clearly able to focus on exactly who had stolen his attention for that brief moment, and when she looked back at Tyson there was a gleam of understanding on her face, “She’s beautiful.”

“I know.” There wasn’t even a debate about it, the words had just flown so freely out of his mouth that he couldn’t ever really imagine saying anything with such confidence in his entire life.

The girl flashed a soft smile, the kind that had Tyson wondering if she ever really had the true intention of really flirting with him, and simply wandered into the ladies bathroom next to him.

He remained rooted to the spot, his mind reeling. Really, he was flattered, but other women flirting with him had never felt so uncomfortable. He felt the awkward desire to apologise to you for some reason; it wasn’t as though there was anything tying him to you on any kind of level. There’d only been a  few moments but not enough for him to hate it when it wasn’t you flirting with him. Surely?

He cleared his throat, hand over his chest as he looked up. Straight in your direction. The food had arrived, the plate in his empty place steaming, but it was the look on your face that had him moving. You’d bitten the inside of your cheek and there was a thoughtful, vacant look in your eyes – something was up.

Only, when he’d returned to his seat, you ignored his questioning glance and instead offered a tight, clearly irritated smile.

And something dropped in his stomach: it felt an awful lot like guilt.

***

Somewhere along the lines it was decided a walk back to the house would be a good way to end the night. Mat and Toni were walking ahead of you and Tyson, hands intertwined and hushed conversation flowing easily. It couldn't have been more opposite than yours and Tyson’s current situation.

There was at least an arm’s length between you both, and neither of you had spoken a single word since the restaurant. 

It was awkward.

He had still given you his jacket, though – but even that went without words other than your concerned glance to his bare arms (he shrugged), and a muttered thank you.

You wanted to ask if he was okay, there was just something nagging you in the back of your mind, but you pushed it down. It wasn’t even fair of you to be a little pissed at him, but you were. In fact, you were more pissed at yourself. Perhaps if it hadn’t looked as though you were flirting with Jamie, Tyson wouldn’t have flirted with the gorgeous girl outside the bathroom.

Then again, you had learnt a lesson from tonight, so you’d chosen to take that presumption with a pinch of salt, because if you didn’t, you’d be a whole hypocrite.

You just needed a breather, and the only way you could process everything in your head and everything your body was telling you about the man next to you, was to process it in silence. In your own head and on your own terms. 

Hopefully the processing wouldn’t last too long, though.

“Excuse me.” You stopped, twirling around at the sound of a soft, delicate voice. Your arms immediately uncrossed from against your chest, coming to rest at your sides as you flashed a polite smile at the elderly couple that had stopped you.

Your eyes automatically flickered down to their chained arms, and that slow sense of panic from yesterday began to tease at your insides again.

“Is everything alright?” You asked.

The sound of footsteps getting closer registered somewhere in the back of your mind, and your skin seemed to erupt in goosebumps when a subconscious part of your mind registered it was Tyson that had pressed himself closer to you. Again, he wasn’t touching you, but you could still feel his presence and warmth.

You’d never really been this in-tune with him before.

The man smiled back up at you, and you ignored the way his wife’s curious eyes slipped to Tyson behind you, “It is, but we’re just a little bit lost, and we were wondering if you could point us in the right direction?”

You nodded instantly, automatically turning to Tyson, who’d already read your mind and was pulling up maps on his phone, “Where do you need to be?”

The man – Eric – answered, and you nodded in understanding, curling your head to look down at Tyson’s phone. You felt your heart start to race at the closeness: he was still standing a little behind you, but he’d placed his phone in a position you could also see his screen, so all you had to do was turn your head a little to the right, his curls ticking the top of your head. 

Neither one of you made a move to inch away.

“I’m really sorry if I’m overstepping here, but you two make a lovely couple.” The lady – Freda – said a little sheepishly.

The breath in your chest seemed to still, and you felt your mouth form a shape, but no sound came out. Luckily, Tyson seemed to take the lead, his media training and prep for keeping a straight face and calm demeanour (all of which you were failing ridiculously in) being used to–

“Thank you.” 

You inhaled sharply, head snapping back to him in surprise. Of all things you’d expected him to say, a simple thank you was most definitely not on the cards – at all. In fact, you’d fully prepared for him to shoot it down with a smile, but here he was, accepting it with a smile.

And you misjudged exactly where he was, because in all the heart-stopping seconds you’d just experienced, it hadn’t even occurred to you that he’d also turned to face the couple. So when you turned back to him, chest aching with something that had recently come into fruition, you turned into him.

The proximity of your faces was so close that even with a small breath you could feel it fan across your cheeks. His nudged your cheek, and almost as though it was rehearsed, both of your gazes instantly went to the other’s mouth.

Before flicking back up to the eyes, and when you did, something seemed to crack. Or click. You couldn’t quite determine which, but there was a heavy vulnerability written there clear as day: he was just as taken aback by the sudden closeness as you were, though he seemed to have mastered the ability to hide the rest of his emotions pretty well.

As for you, you were sure he could see just about everything on your face.

Before the moment could be ruined, you took one daring look back at his lips, suddenly struck with the strength of the magnetism between you both. You felt compelled to kiss him then. The thought had the corner of your mouth twitching up fractionally and your breath hitching in your chest, because that idea wasn’t at all as petrifying as you thought it would be.

You wanted to kiss Tyson in a way that if you did, it’d just screw you both up.

He must have been on a similar wavelength, however, because his cheeks seemed to colour and his tongue darted out to wet his lips, almost testing you, a hungry glint in his eyes.

And then it was over as quickly as it had happened.

The couple got their directions and you and Tyson all but speed-walked home in the exact same situation as before the interruption: maintaining a safe distance and in an awkward silence, though this time for a slightly different reason.

“I’m going to bed.” You announced immediately after walking through the front door, needing to sit in silence in the dark for a while longer.

Tyson.

Your brain just seemed to scream his name, and although you knew exactly what it meant, it didn’t mean you weren’t a little intimidated by the prospect of it. Only, when he came upstairs twenty-minutes later, you were laid on your side facing the window, and he didn’t bother to be quiet, probably assuming you weren’t asleep anyway, and threw a piece of screwed up paper onto your bedside table with an audible, resigned sigh.

You felt him hesitate, and you cracked your eyes open a little to see him with his hands over his face before they fell down to his sides in resignation. There was a hardness to his jaw and he looked…devastated.

It wasn’t until he’d gone into the bathroom that you unfurled the piece of paper, nerves haywire at what exactly could have caused such a dramatic change in demeanour.

Fuck.

Jamie’s number.

You placed the paper back where he put it, anxiety crushing through your system when there was a muted sigh from inside the bathroom, followed by a muffled bang.

#tyson jost oneshot #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost x reader #nhl oneshot #nhl fic #nhl imagine #martha's is pretty romantic

[raysofcrosby]

FOREVER TO GO – t. jost

warning(s): pregnancy, gender disappointment, medical talk, hospitals and some slightly maternal trauma (just in talk about clementine's mother). if i missed something, please don't hesitate to let me know!!

word count: 31,868

an: ahh it took me awhile, but i finally got around to writing a part two to my tyson fic i wrote last year for the 2k21 fic exchange for @antoineroussel ! i loved this story so much and i had people asking if there was ever a chance for a part two that dwelled further into tyson and clem's life together and well, here it is!! i also made some instagram edits for some events that happen in their lives, but aren't mention in this fic, and you can find them linked below.

part one | bonus insta edits | bonus insta edits pt 2 | deleted scene [from part one]

She knelt on the throw carpet in their new living room, the big plastic red and green storage box in front of her, reaching in and unwrapping ornaments from the different colored pieces of tissue paper before placing them down softly onto the carpet beside her. There were a lot of things she could probably be doing on a Saturday night, but there she was a bowl of popcorn to her left, the ornament box in front of her, unwrapped ornaments to her right and just behind her lying comfortably on the couch, was their two-year-old adopted chocolate lab they’d gotten after she’d graduated with her masters degree– of course, named Fudge.

When Clementine thought back on how life was just two years earlier, sometimes it shocked her just how quickly things have changed in that time. The September after the Avalanches second round exit in the playoffs three months earlier, Tyson was flying with her to London and spent a week with her, helping her get settled into her flat, meeting her flatmates and spending the time before her 12 month program started sightseeing around the city before he flew back home to St. Albert to make sure that her grandparents and his mom had their spare keys to their apartment and that everything that needed to be done before he would travel to Colorado for pre-season, was done.

Her time abroad was an experience that younger Clementine never thought she’d get to experience. On the days they didn’t have class, she and her flatmates and friends from class would just travel all over the UK so that they could wherever they could go, the weekends dedicated to further travel. In that first semester alone they’d traveled all over England, visited Scotland, took trains to Germany, France, the Netherlands and Belgium, as well as a train and a ferry to Ireland. She made sure to take pictures, videos and buy any souvenir that she thought any of her friends and family would like. Surprisingly, the school part was easy, though she still stressed like she normally did despite her marks speaking for themselves. The most stressful part, which was obvious from the beginning, was the moments where she was homesick.

For her grandparents, for her friends, especially for Tyson.

Her time abroad was the farthest and longest she’d ever been away from home or anyone that she knew. The time difference was an adjustment whenever she’d make her calls or facetimes home to her grandparents, but it was even more complicated when the season started and Tyson was traveling– because then it was them having to keep up with multiple time differences. But they still did it. And while it seemed like she was having the time of her life, she really didn’t adjust to being away from everything and everyone, until the All-Star break when Tyson and their families flew to London to surprise her. She knew Tyson was coming, but didn’t know about everyone else and it was just the surprise she needed.

A month later, she was dead asleep when she got a phone call from him. Most of everyone had been acquainted with the time difference, so she couldn’t help but let her mind go to the absolute worst case scenario. And when she saw Tyson’s name through blurred vision, her heart was pounding even harder.

“Tys, what’s wrong? Is everything okay?” She asked, sitting herself up in her bed and bracing herself into the mattress for whatever news he had.

“Yeah, well no…actually…maybe? It just all depends on how you take it,” he sighed, a lot of moving in the background going on. “And you know, you probably would’ve seen it in the morning– well the morning there, and I could’ve just texted you, but I wanted you to be the first one to know before everyone else does and–”

“Tyson what’s going–”

“I got traded to Minnesota,” he replied, this time, silence on the other line. “I’m heading there now.”

“Oh,” she sighed, running her fingers through her hair as she felt her racing heart start to return to a normal rhythm. “Okay, so what does this mean for the future?”

“Well, best case scenario, I spend the rest of this season there and they keep me around next season and hopefully want to sign me again. Worst case scenario, they absolutely hate me, get rid of me next season and I bounce to another team and then become a restricted free agent after that.”

Clementine could hear the stress in his voice, especially since he was dead set on winning a Stanley Cup with the Avalanche and some of his best friends. “Well…I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t buy that house in Colorado, huh?”

Tyson laughed and she smiled, even by the small laugh through the phone she could tell that he was starting to relax a little bit. “Yeah, but now we have to start fresh with the search here…and even then, maybe it’s safer to just start out with an apartment? You know…just in case?”

“Whatever you want to do Tys,” she replied, letting herself lay back down in her bed. “My degrees allow me to get a job basically anywhere. So I’ll follow you wherever your dreams take you.”

“And if we make it to the playoffs, don’t worry, I’ll get a jacket made just for you.” He joked, the movement in the background picking back up. “Even if you’ll be supporting me from a million miles away.”

“Try 3,977,” she laughed, exhaling soon after. “You’ll do great, Tys. Just…go out there and play like you always do. I promise you’ll go far and I’ll be supporting you from all the way over here in my little flat.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The Wild did make it to the playoffs. They made it into the first round of the Western Conference final, Clem staying up with some of her flatmates to watch the games every time they were on. Unfortunately, the Wild ended up losing the series 4-2 and Tyson’s season had come to an end. Once he wrapped up everything in Minnesota and went home to visit with their families before flying out to visit Clementine for two weeks. It was filled with more traveling and taking pictures that flooded their instagram accounts– making the priceless memories that her abroad program gave them the opportunity to experience.

Before she knew it, her 12 month program was done and while her grandparents couldn’t make the flight this time around because of her grandpa getting a new hip and her grandma and Laura staying behind to help take care of him, Tyson and Kacey were there at her graduation and helping her pack up and then the three of them were flying back home to St. Albert where she stayed behind an extra week to spend more time with her grandparents while Tyson went to Minnesota for pre-season. But by the last two weeks of September she was in Minnesota with him and making their three bedroom apartment feel like home.

For the rest of 2022, she spent her time planning her wedding with the help of Mel and a wedding planner, getting comfortable in Minnesota and befriending the WAGs of Tyson’s teammates and also searching for a job. By November, she was lucky enough to get one so soon post graduation of her Masters. She was a guidance counselor at a local high school and despite settling into the role, she found herself loving every minute of it. She wanted to be the role model for students that her own guidance counselor in secondary school was for her– the one who helped her figure out which scholarships to apply for and encouraged her to apply for schools while she was still in secondary school, aside from Tyson and despite her own self doubt.

And when things started to seem like Minnesota could be a permanent place for them to call home, they took the chance to spend the All-Star break looking at potential homes, though they didn’t quite settle on one and wouldn’t until they were for sure positive that Minnesota would sign him. The Wild made the playoffs again, only this time making it to the conference finals where Tyson faced his old teammates in the Western Conference finals. Clementine enjoyed catching up with their old friends, despite the competitive aspect of it all, but she knew that hockey aside, their friendships were priceless. It was a tough matchup between both teams, Colorado coming off of their Stanley Cup win last year, and at times when the Wild would be scoreless, it felt defeating, even when the series was close. But the Wild never gave up and they pushed it all the way to a game seven before ultimately losing 4-3 in overtime and ultimately ending their season. It was a heartbreaking defeat, one that Clementine hated to witness Tyson go through twice in a row– but she was grateful that she was there for him this time around instead of across an ocean.

And despite their Stanley Cup run ending and the sad feelings coming with that, there were still two things that made the ending more sweet than bitter:

The Wild chose to keep him on, signing him for an additional eight years.

They were getting married in 46 days, less and two months away and they couldn’t have been happier.

And when the time finally came for their friends and family to travel to the Mount Norquay Ski Resort and gather there at the cascade lodge patio with the mountains in the background on July 24th and watch the once childhood friends, turned into sweethearts, exchange their vows and seal them with a dramatic dipped kiss before celebrating the night away and while Clementine was never the girl who planned her entire wedding on a pinterest board growing up– it was still the wedding of her dreams.

It was a simple, and elegant boho themed wedding. Really wanting to highlight the simplicity and the beauty of the natured venue with mainly greenery that decorated the lodge throughout their reception in the smallest of forms. Their pictures were jaw dropping, the photographer that they’d hired grasping even the tiniest of details from her bouquet, their rings, and capturing the varying personalities of their wedding party and their families. The first look they’d had in a quiet out of sight location where she thought she was totally prepared to face seeing Tyson all dressed up in a suit since she’d seen it times before. But the moment he’d turned around and she walked the last few steps towards him and she saw him try not to cry– she was a goner, they both were and it was caught on camera in pictures where the pure love they had for each other radiated from. The pictures where Tyson had convinced Clementine to go up onto the chairlift for some pictures, and despite her never letting go of his hand in fear of somehow falling, she knew that he’d never let it happen in the first place.

She had both of their Grandfathers walk her down the aisle. Their first dance was to none other than that George Strait song he’d always teased her about loving so much– I Cross My Heart– but he was the one to suggest it to her because “besides the obvious, and if you remember…it was the very first slow dance we had as an official couple at Mel and Gabe’s wedding and I believe we also agreed that this was our song.” Tyson danced with his mom, Clementine danced with both of her grandparents, speeches were made by his mom, her grandparents, Mel and Gabe. It was a night that they almost didn’t want to end, but they were okay when it did and the two were having their own sparkler send-off before getting into their rented 1960 Mercedes Benz convertible before driving back to the cabin they’d rented for the night.

The next morning, they were off to the airport and flying off to Bora Bora for a week honeymoon and when they got back, they flew into Minnesota to close on their dream house with the big yards and the wraparound porch, that they’d found based on a recommendation from the Spurgeon’s, who happened to live six houses down from them. Then back to St. Albert to spend time with their families before they went back to Minnesota at the end of August for the preparation of the new school year and pre-season.

A little over two years later from the moment he proposed in the Landeskog’s kitchen after a blow-up fight the night before and five months into post-wedding, newlywed life…things were great. Tyson was just two months into the new season, she into the school year, they were a year into being dog parents…it felt like things were just naturally progressing in their lives and the future that they’d talked about and dreamt about all those late nights were starting to mesh together seamlessly.

Especially with the news that she’d found out this morning.

Once Tyson signed his contract with the Wild, they talked about buying a house and starting a family since there was some guarantee they would be settling down in Minnesota for a handful of years. After they came back from their honeymoon and further discussion, they took the first step on their road of trying for a baby and Clementine got her IUD taken out. They weren’t adamant on immediately getting pregnant, because they were okay with having a baby within the next two years. So it wasn’t like she was tracking her cycle and they’d try when the possibility was high– but they also weren’t trying to not get pregnant either.

So spending every morning of this last week in the teachers lounge bathroom throwing up her breakfast gave her the inkling that maybe there was a reason behind it. Her period had yet to return to a normal regular cycle, so she hadn’t been tracking it like she normally would have, so any missing period in the last few months since she’d gotten her IUD taken out wasn’t really of any concern to her. And Tyson was on a four game road series, so he wasn’t there to notice the still unopened box of tampons beneath the bathroom sink, though it wouldn’t have been odd if he didn’t notice at all.

It was Thursday afternoon when Clementine stopped at a Walgreens on her way home to grab the first pack of pregnancy tests she found and Thursday night post walk and dinner when she took the tests in their bathroom. Fudge who she had left behind at the cushioned bench at the end of their bed where she normally slept, had made her way into the bathroom when Clementine had set all three tests that’d come in the box down onto the counter and waited the painstaking three minutes that two of the tests had required as described in their novel of instructions.

She’d never had to take a pregnancy test before in her life and this wasn’t the time to mess up any result, so she read over the instructions carefully, despite the small writing and the large piece of unfolded paper in her hands that made it stressful to even look at. When she noticed one minute had passed, she looked at the first test– the rapid response– and two pink lines were there in the small oval box, which according to the symbols on the test itself…meant pregnant. But it was just one test, she knew she’d need to wait for the other two just in case this first one was a fluke or she messed up testing it somehow. So she sat down on the toilet lid, scratching behind Fudge’s ears as she waited those last two minutes. When her timer went off, she stood up, the calm chocolate lab standing beside her as she looked down at the final two tests.

Another two pink lines and a digital YES+ written in black block letters.

All three tests were positive which meant more than likely she was pregnant but she still wanted to make an appointment just to be sure. So yesterday, Friday morning, Clementine made an appointment with her OB/GYN a short time after Fudge would be dropped off at the vet since she was due for her yearly wellness exam. So this morning she dropped Fudge off at the vet and then drove to the town center where her OB was officed in and sat down at a Panera, treating herself to a sausage, egg and cheese ciabatta and strawberry banana smoothie for breakfast and then did some shopping, unable to resist lingering amongst the baby aisles until it was time for her to check in for her appointment.

Despite how comfortable Clementine had become around her OB/GYN, she still didn’t like anything having to do with hospitals or doctors, especially if she had to do it alone– but this was also something she knew was fragile, so she couldn’t quite tell anyone just yet…and Tyson was just up north in Winnipeg, set to arrive for warm-ups for their game tonight in a few hours. So it was just her sitting in the room dressed in a gown and waiting for either her OB/GYN or an ultrasound tech to come and perform the ultrasound she was told she needed because– “you, Clementine Jost, are most definitely pregnant.”

She felt guilty getting that first ultrasound done without Tyson there, and Dr. Johnson knew it. Maybe it was by Clementine’s nerves or the fact that she kept asking questions throughout the entire time, wondering if it was common for people to come in that first time without their partner. And even when Dr. Johnson confirmed that it was a frequent occurrence, Clementine still felt a little guilty. Tyson didn’t even know she made an appointment to double check. She’d told him she was focusing on getting the Christmas decorations out so that the two of them could spend tomorrow not only picking out their tree, but also decorating their house. Which she would still do, but only after her appointment.

It was very clear just how unprepared and how much about this process she didn’t understand. For all she knew based on any and every medical show she’s ever watched, the ultrasound was the wand they used on the individual who was pregnant, stomach and saw the baby that way. So when Dr. Johnson was explaining about how based on a possible timeline, a transvaginal ultrasound would be more likely, she was confused. And by no means was the process itself a vacation, but Dr. Johnson kept her mind off of it enough by asking her about their wedding and honeymoon, the two of them sharing dog stories as well. The conversation took her mind off of the awkward feeling long enough up until Dr. Johnson had gained her attention by turning the screen towards Clementine and pointing at the small white blob on the screen and saying “that’s your baby.”

She got to hear the heartbeat, and Dr. Johnson answered every question Clementine had and explained what her next steps would be should she and Tyson choose to go along with the pregnancy. When she left the doctor’s office, she was leaving with a six week window of scheduling her next ultrasound appointment to where Tyson could be with her, a list of prenatals she could take, multiple pamphlets on pregnancy and the stages throughout and the knowledge of knowing that not only was she just three days away from being nine weeks pregnant, but that their baby had a rough due date of the second week of July.

Meaning that they would have a baby of their own joining their little family for their first wedding anniversary.

Clementine hadn’t received a call from the vet yet when she left the OB/GYN so she decided to do some more shopping for the supplies she’d need to tell Tyson when he got home later that night. She felt out of place, not sure on how to tell him and spent plenty of time googling creative ways to tell him and desperately considering spilling the secret and asking Kacey for advice– but she decided to stay mum and tried her best. She managed to grab everything she needed by the time the vet called and told her that Fudge was ready to be picked up. She went home with Fudge having a clean bill of health, her secret of a new addition and everything she’d need to put together Tyson’s surprise.

It was funny how slow time moved though when you were really looking forward to something. The perfectionist she was for making sure everything was just how she pictured it when putting Tyson’s reveal together, it only took her about 30-minutes to put together. Then she made her and Fudge dinner– putting some leftovers for Tyson in a container in case he was hungry when he got home–took Fudge for her walk, played fetch with her for little bit in the backyard, quickly imagining their baby doing the same thing when he would be a little bit older, and then she came back into the house for the night, taking trips to the garage and figuring she might as well keep up with her cover story of getting the Christmas decorations out for tomorrow while watching Tyson’s game.

But even then when the game was done and she went back to starting to unpack the ornaments for tomorrow so it would save them some time, it felt like the hours, minutes and seconds were just dragging on. And when she heard their alarm beep twice, signaling that a the garage door leading to the house had been opened– since she knew it wasn’t the front door because it was in her view– her heart was racing because she knew that Tyson was home and he was unknowingly moments away from being handed what he would no doubt call the best gift he was going to receive this Christmas.

“Clem?” Tyson called out, the sound of the door closing behind him, followed by two more beeps of the alarm system. “You down here still?”

“In the living room!” She called out, sitting back against her heels as Fudge lifted her head from the couch cushion and looked towards the back as Tyson’s footsteps echoed down the hall. “How was the flight?”

“Not bad, hit a little turbulence right when we left since I guess there’s a storm that’s supposed to pass through Winnipeg,” he sighed, coming into view as he walked towards the stairs and dropped his duffle down before walking back over to the back of the couch and reaching down to scratch Fudge’s back. “Hi my second favorite girl, mom said the vet told her you were perfect, which we already knew didn’t we?” He smiled, Fudge rolling over so he could scratch her belly. “Were you a good girl for mom today?”

It wasn’t odd hearing him call Clementine mom, they’d joked about being dog parents before being real parents, calling the other mom and dad whenever it came to Fudge. But now that she knew she was pregnant, it made her heart flutter a little harder because now they really were going to be mom and dad to someone.

“She was. Even got a little extra playtime in the backyard today after her walk,” Clementine smiled as Tyson walked from around the couch and over to her, stopping just behind her and bending down as he cupped her face and kissed her. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he replied, kissing her again before walking over to the couch and sitting down on the cushion next to Fudge, who had rolled back over in expectation of more belly rubs and scratches. “So I was thinking tomorrow we could go to the tree farm right when they open? Get the best tree, come back here and set it up and then breakfast before we decorate?”

“That sounds perfect,” Clementine nodded, nervously unwrapping the tissue paper around one of the homemade ornaments they’d made on a date to one of those painting pottery places. “I got you something today.”

“Ooh, so does this mean I get to have the first present under the tree tomorrow?” He smiled, sinking into the seat as he started to rub Fudge’s belly.

“Actually, no,” Clementine replied, standing herself up and walking over to their brick fireplace where she’d rested the wrapped rectangular box up in Christmas paper and placed it on top of the mantle. “You get to open it tonight,” she smiled, turning back around and walking over to him with the present in hand.

He tilted his head to the side as he looked at her. “What? But Christmas is what? 22 days away?”

“23, but who’s counting,” she said, holding the present out for him. “Here, open it.”

He looked at the red wrapping paper, scrunching his face as he contemplated and then shook his head. “I don’t know, it feels wrong to open a gift this early–”

“Tyson, open the present or I’m calling your mom,” she said, stomping her right foot just barely against the part of their laminated floor that wasn’t covered by the throw rug.

“That’s cold,” he said, shaking his head as he grabbed the other side of the present. “I thought we agreed not to pull the mom card unless I was in trouble.”

She crossed her arms and shrugged. “You will be if you don’t open the present.”

Tyson sighed, resting the present in his lap as he sat up and stopped rubbing Fudge’s stomach. “Looks like someone is trying to ruin Christmas, huh Fudge?” He asked, scratching behind her ears before looking back at the present. “We should just call mom grinch for the rest of this month, huh?”

“Tys–”

“I know, I know, ‘just open the gift’,” he replied, rolling his eyes playfully as he started to unwrap the gift box. “If this is also your way of trying to upstage me on Christmas this year, just know it’s not happening. I’m going to win the gift giving, I always give the best gifts.”

“Maybe not this year,” she smiled, keeping her arms crossed nervously as she watched him place the wrapping paper off to the side and look at the red squared stock card she’d cut in half, the first half taped to the top of the box with half of a riddle and the second half inside of the box, resting on top of the white tissue paper that was covering up the contents inside of it. “Come on, read it out loud.”

“Bossy,” he smiled, rolling his eyes as he looked at her writing. “It’s been you, Fudge and me for quite some time. And a house too big for three lonely souls, but that’s going to change in a few short months.” He looked up, his eyebrows furrowed. “I wouldn’t say we’re lonely, we’ve got Fudgie.”

“Tyson, just open the box,” she sighed, shaking her head.

“Unless,” he smiled, looking at Fudge. “We’re getting you a little brother or sister! Twice the puppy love in this house.”

“Tyson!”

“Alright, alright, relax, mom,” he smiled, lifting the lid of the box and revealing  the second part of the stock card that he picked up to read. “For heaven has heard our secret desire. Our family is growing by one heart and two feet…” his voice faded out and she could see his eyes skim across the card again before he lifted up the tissue paper, surprisingly following the instructions she’d written at the bottom of the card– “(lift up the tissue paper for a surprise! <3)”

She uncrossed her arms and brought her hands together, resting them beneath her chin as she watched him pick up the YES+ pregnancy test before putting it back down and then picking up the sonogram she’d gotten from her appointment. He held onto it as his eyes moved to the two articles of clothing she’d put into the gift, a red Minnesota Wild newborn bodysuit she’d bought from Dicks with his number and ‘DADDY’ in white block letters self-ironed on the back and a green Minnesota Wild newborn sleeper.

He looked up at her, his facial expression soft as he quickly glimpsed back down at the sonogram in his hand and then back at her. “You’re pregnant?” He asked softly, eyes expressing pure disbelief.

“Yeah,” she nodded, tears brimming in her eyes as she chewed on her bottom lip in an attempt to stop it from quivering.

“Really?”

“Really,” she sniffled, nodded and then laughed as Tyson put the box of stuff down onto the couch and got up off of the couch, taking two steps before he was able to wrap his arms around her waist and pick her up off of the ground in a hug. “Tyson!”

“I can’t believe it,” he said, looking at her before putting her down, leaning in and kissing her as he cupped her face before pulling back. “When did you find out?”

“Technically Thursday night because that’s when I took the tests,” she replied as he wiped away at her cheeks with the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “But I had an appointment this morning after I dropped Fudge off at the vet and Dr. Johnson confirmed it.”

“How far along are you?” He asked, nodding his head back towards the box where the sonogram was still laying. “That’s not a tiny blob, that’s a slightly big peanut blob.”

“Three days from nine weeks, so almost a week over two months,” she smiled, keeping her arms draped over his shoulders as his hands rested on her hips. “She gave me a rough estimate of a due date sometime in the second week of July.”

He looked down at her stomach, moving his hands from her hips and resting them on her stomach. “You’re gonna get a bump, dude,” he smiled, looking up at her with a gleam in his eyes. “We’re gonna have a baby.”

Clementine nodded, a smile overtaking her face. “We’re having a baby.”

“Holy shit,” he hugged her again, holding her against him as the two embraced in the living room, not pulling apart until Fudge barked at them both, now standing up on the couch with her tail wagging. “Fudge you’re gonna be a big sister, are you excited?”

Fudge barked in reply as Tyson walked over and smothered her in rubs and kisses on the top of her head. “You know,” he said, turning around to look at Clementine. “If you’re almost nine weeks pregnant, that makes sense why Fudge has been so obsessed with you. Don’t animals like, gravitate towards pregnant people?”

“Or she just loves me more,” Clementine smiled, shrugging her shoulders.

“Totally possible,” Tyson replied, walking back towards her and resting his hands on the small of her back. “But she definitely doesn’t love you more than I do.” He pulled her closer to him, resting his forehead against hers as he smiled. “We’re going to be parents.”

“We are,” she nodded, her fingers tracing the nap of his neck. “But you know we can’t tell anyone yet…right? Dr. Johnson told me most people don’t announce until they’re out of the first trimester–“

“When’s that done?”

“Um…I think she said 12 or 13 weeks?”

“Perfect,” he smiled, leaning down and kissing her nose. “We can make the announcement on New Years, shock everyone with the best news they’ll get all year. But you know what this means, right?”

Clementine wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling up at him. “Hm?”

“We’re giving my mom her first grandchild, which means I’m forever solidified as the favorite kid.” He beamed as Clementine just laughed. “Sucks to be Kacey.”

Second Trimester

In the midst of the season, Clementine and Tyson were balancing a lot of things. Work, their home life, preparing what had been previously an empty room to turn into a nursery. In their excitement, they’d spent one of Tyson’s rare days off and took a trip to IKEA to look at potential cribs and other furniture they’d want to put in the nursery. If he could, Tyson would have bought the first of everything that he thought, just because he was so excited. Clementine, surprisingly being the more level headed of the two, suggested they look at multiple options and even search online so they could check the safety levels.

“There’s a lot more that goes into the decoration of the nursery besides just how it looks, Tys.”

“Well, obviously she’s sleeping in our room until she’s six, so it’s not like she’ll be sleeping in there while she’s a baby. We have to soak up all of the cuddle time that we can.”

So they compromised. For cribs, they would search online and check out safety ratings until narrowing their options down to the one they wanted and then Tyson could also buy the bedside bassinet.

Despite being a few days shy the first week of her second trimester and being six weeks away from their 19 week scan where they could potentially find out the gender, Tyson and Clementine both were each adamant on what the gender of their baby was going to be. Clementine was so sure they were having a boy. Maybe it was just all of the small talk between her and Tyson in the early years of dating that had her mind set on their first child being a boy, or maybe it was that her body just knew. Whichever it was, she just had a feeling that they were having a boy and she often referred to her bump as such. Now Tyson on the other hand, was the exact opposite. He, for reasons of his own, was adamant they were having a girl.

“Just imagine, Clem,” he’d say as they laid there in bed, resting his hand on her forming bump. “She’ll learn how to walk in the living room, probably trying to get to Fudge or something. Her first Halloween and Christmas, she’ll look so cute in her costume and opening her presents– but you promise we won’t dress her up in something cliche like a pumpkin? I hope she has your eyes, actually no…I don’t. I’ll never be able to turn her down if she gives me puppy dog eyes like you do.”

She let him go on and on in his talks about hoping that their baby was a girl, just like he let her do the same. But they were still undecided on whether or not they wanted to find out when they got their 19 week scan. Part of her wanted to wait until he was born, just the excitement of it all– but the other part of her wanted to know– wanted to be prepared so they could figure out what they were going to name him from the growing list that just seemed to keep growing.

First though, they had to tell their families.

It was hard to keep the secret as Christmas came and went, the both of them wanting nothing more than to surprise their families with a Christmas surprise of “we’re having a baby” but they managed to keep it a secret until the last day that their families were in town. Tyson had a game tonight, so the plan was for them to tell their families right before he left for the arena. Though he’d almost managed to crack in the hours leading up to it.

“Tyson, why are you still here?” His mom asked, coming in from the kitchen. “You need to leave.”

“Mom, we live right down the road, it’s not that far of a drive,” he sighed, shaking his head as he stood next to Clementine, who was standing in the middle of the living room. “We need to talk to you guys before I head out.”

“What’s this about?” Her Grandfather asked, sitting in Tyson’s recliner. “Are those idiots trading you?”

“Don’t worry, Papa, it’s nothing bad,” Clem laughed, waving him off. “And no, they’re not trading him.”

Once Kacey had come into the living room and sat down next to her mom, Tyson and Clementine shared a look before Tyson walked out of the living room and down the hall to the storage closet. “So now that you guys are here, we just wanted to have one more special moment together before you all flew home tomorrow morning.”

“I’m surprised out of all of those times Kacey snuck presents when we were kids, that she didn’t find these,” Tyson laughed, carrying six boxes that were wrapped in red Christmas paper and walking back into the living room before passing out the boxes to who they belonged to.

“Um, no,” Kacey said, looking at him as he went to hand her her present. “You were the mastermind behind that, you just used me as a pawn because you knew I was cuter so mom wouldn’t get mad at me.”

Tyson held back the box, looking at Clementine. “I changed my mind, she doesn’t get one.”

“Tys,” Clementine sighed, motioning towards Kacey. “Give her the box.”

“Yeah Tys, give me the box,” Kacey said, holding out her hand and grabbing the box from a reluctant Tyson before he walked over and stood next to Clementine.

“So we held onto these just because we wanted to have you guys open them now when things got a little less hectic. We had everything customized for you, because they’re very meaningful gifts because you guys mean so much to us,” Clementine smiled, pausing as she felt herself start to get emotional.

“We just wanted to remind you guys how much we love and appreciate you and wanted to see you open your gifts all together without the rush of Christmas morning,” Tyson added, looking at Clem before nodding at their families. “So go ahead and open them.”

Clementine had her hands interlocked in front of her, resting her chin on top of them as she eagerly watched them start to unwrap their presents. As expected, Kacey was the first one who got her wrapping paper undone, but moved to help their grandparents get theirs undone before returning to her own gift, taking the lid off of her box and peeling back the tissue paper.

“Oh my God!” She shrieked, looking up at them. “Shut up, you’re kidding!”

They both just smiled as one by one their family members each opened their boxes and saw what they’d put inside– each baby announcement tailored to their own interests. Kacey had gotten a t-shirt that said “official member of the cool aunt club”, along with a mug with a bunch of her favorite flowers and larkspur and water lilies– the official flower of july– drawn on with “Auntie Kacey EST. 2023” written in cursive beneath it, and a candle of her favorite scent that Tyson had picked out simply because it said “look at you becoming an aunt and shit” along with a greeting card and a copy of the sonogram they’d gotten.

Inside Tyson’s mom’s box, they had put a light gray onesie with “hi grandma, see you in july” printed in cursive, a grandparents keepsake journal since she had done similar books for Tyson and Kacey both, a comfy retro-inspired great sweatshirt that said “I’m a cool grandma” on it and then a wooden frame with “hello grandma” and “baby jost – july 2023” engraved beneath it, with the sonogram clipped to the side.

Tyson’s grandparents had gotten a similar frame, only theirs read “hello great-grandma & great-grandpa”, a cream colored throw pillow cover that had “parents, grandparents and great grandparents” each with the proper EST date beneath it and red hearts decorated in the corner. Each of them got a t-shirt that read “promoted to great-grandpa/grandma EST 2023” as well as a bottle of their favorite wine with the label that read “To the best great-grandparents, I can’t wait to meet you. Love, your great-grandchild” And along with those, Tyson’s grandpa got a golf ball marker engraved with “new golfing buddy coming soon” on it, while his grandma got a mug that had “mom, grandma and great-grandma” also all with the proper EST dates.

For her grandparents, Clementine had gotten them matching mugs, since they often sat at the coffee together every morning or out on the front porch, sipping their morning coffee side by side. They had said “Just when a grandfather/grandmother thinks his/her work is finished, someone calls him/her Great.” She’d gotten then the same frame as Tyson’s grandparents as well, complete with sonogram. Nana got a cream colored sweatshirt that said “Mom, Grandma, Great-Grandma, I just keep getting better”, while Papa received a navy sweater reading the same but with dad, grandpa and great-grandpa instead. He’d also received a fishing lure with “Papa’s new fishing buddy arriving 7/2023” on it. While Nana got a small set of plastic toddler gardening tools, complete with a tote and a light blue apron that had “Nana’s gardening buddy” engraved across the chest.

For her grandparents, Clementine struggled on just what to give them in terms of title. All of her life she’s referred to them as Nana and Papa, because they were her grandparents after all. But as far as she was concerned, they were ones who raised her– who were practically her mom and dad. Ultimately, she settled on getting them great-grandparent titled gifts, but would make it known to their children that they were basically mom and dad to her and that they too could call them Nana and Papa if that’s what they wanted.

But seeing their excitement as they took in the news and saw the surprise, followed by the amount of hugs and love they received, only made Tyson and Clementine more excited for the impending arrival of their baby. They were going to be surrounded by so many people that loved them and cared for them, that it was beyond her wildest dreams.

Clementine knew deep in her heart that their son would never for a single second or moment ever feel the way that her own biological mother had made her feel as a little girl– that she wasn’t enough for someone to want or was someone who could just so easily be left behind…abandoned. No, she knew that he was going to be very, very loved by everyone in their family. And that was all that she could ever hope and wish for.

It was only a few days later, on New Years Day that Tyson and Clementine sat huddled together on their couch with Fudge sitting on the other side of Clementine, her face resting by her belly, while the two of them looked at their phones. It was early afternoon into the new year, Tyson had gotten home from St. Louis around 10:30 and traveled with his teammates to meet up with their significant others and families at the Spurgeons place, where Danielle was hosting the New Years Eve party.

Up until the guys got there, Clementine had spent a lot of her time dodging questions as to why she wasn’t partaking in sipping on champagne, her main excuse was that she’d had a really bad headache all day and thankfully once the person asking heard that question, they’d back off. Otherwise, it was just mingling with the girls and entertaining the kids as the game played on TV. At one point, the Fleury’s youngest, James, had made his way onto the couch and sat down next to Clementine, eventually crawling his way onto her lap and sitting while they watched the game up until he fell asleep. Véronique had apologized, but Clem told her it was okay. However, that small event spiraled out into the millions of questions being thrown around about whether or not her and Tyson were thinking about starting a family now that they were married and he was signed for eight years, or if they were wanting to wait a little longer.

“Whatever happens, happens,” she said with a smile, shrugging her shoulders carefully not to disturb the sleeping toddler. Part of her enjoyed keeping their small secret that they were already expecting, but the other half found it so hard to keep it from them any longer, seeing as she was becoming very good friends with all of the women.

By the time the guys joined the party, the younger kids were all rounded up in the playroom where they were all napping until midnight, when the party would end and the parents would go home. It wasn’t too long though before the countdown was starting and everyone was huddled in the living room watching the ball drop.

“Do you realize this is our fifth New Years Eve together?” Clementine asked, looking up at Tyson.

“Technically, it’s been way more than that,” Tyson smiled, quickly pressing a kiss to her temple as he saw her roll her eyes. “But yes, I do realize that. New Years Eve 2018 changed everything for us, of course I’d remember.”

“It’s crazy to think five years have already passed,” she smiled, leaning against his chest. “Doesn’t feel like it’s been that long.”

“I know, time’s been flying by.” he whispered, nonchalantly resting his hands beneath the Wild sweatshirt she was wearing and brushing his thumbs against the t-shirt she had beneath it. “And just think how this time next year, we’ll have a little one to bring to the party too.”

The countdown had reached one and everyone around them cheered before they all partook in the classic tradition of sharing a midnight kiss with their significant other. Unlike all those years before, Clem wasn’t the one to initiate the kiss, Tyson was and he had pulled back with a smile on his face to say “Happy new year Clem,” before kissing her again. They’d left the Spurgeon’s house shortly after midnight and traveled the short distance down the way to their own home, greeting Fudge with pets and head kisses before they went to bed for the night.

Clementine had woken up that morning, to the smell of coffee and eggs coming from downstairs. Fudge was sleeping at the end of their bed like she always did, waiting for her to wake up before she’d travel back downstairs with Tyson. After the morning snuggles and pets, Clementine and Fudge made their way downstairs to see Tyson in the kitchen, wrapping up cooking breakfast. He hadn’t even been able to get a word out after she greeted him with a morning kiss before saying “I want to announce it to everyone else, today.”

So there they were, staring at the announcement photos they’d chosen to post to their individual instagram accounts, Tyson unable to say no to the puppy dog eyes and pouty lip Clementine had given him the moment the simple request left her lips. She pleaded her case, explaining how she was too excited to keep it a secret any longer and they were officially in the safe zone to where they were allowed to announce it. But she hadn’t needed to do any pleading at all, because Tyson was on board and had been waiting to do the same exact thing.

“So we post on three, then lock our phones and don’t touch them until bed…right?” He asked, looking away from his phone. “That way we can just be completely unaware of their shock and then read all the comments and laugh about it tonight in bed?”

Clementine laughed, scratching the top of Fudge’s head. “You are aware that we’re probably going to get spammed with texts and calls from our friends…right?”

“Eh, we’ll tell them we’re doing newlywed things,” he shrugged, looking down at her bump. “Though we’ve already done that.”

Clementine shoved him as she shook her head. “You’re so annoying, let’s just post.”

“On three,” he nodded, looking at her phone. “One, two…three.”

They both pressed the share button, watching as their feed loaded and then the posts appeared on their screens. They locked their phones before resting them down on the arm of the couch and Clementine leaned towards Tyson, snuggling down into his side.

“How long do you think it’ll be before we get the first phone call?” She asked, looking ahead at the tv screen as Mamma Mia continued to play on the screen.

“Mmm, maybe half an hour? I’m sure plenty of people are still sleeping off last night’s–”

Tyson’s phone rang first, cutting him off. He looked in disbelief as he grabbed his phone, Clementine’s going off soon after. She laughed and slowly reached over to grab her phone off of the arm of the couch, turning it towards him. “It’s a facetime from Mel.”

“Mine’s JT,” he laughed, taking a deep breath and sighing. “So it begins, huh?”

“I guess so,” she smiled, patting his chest before swiping to answer the facetime call, just as Tyson answered his phone.

It was a long five weeks for both Clemetine and Tyson as they awaited their next ultrasound appointment.

Now that she was 18 weeks pregnant, Clementine was starting to have a tough time falling asleep– a symptom amongst many that she’d read about in the books she’d bought for some kind of guidance on this new, uncharted journey. She could call, text and facetime Nana and Laura if she needed advice or had questions– but sometimes she’d just preferred to be able to sit down at a table with them and talk.

Thankfully though, she found that guidance and conversation easy with some of the WAGs of the team. Those who’d had children or experienced pregnancy before. Sometimes the websites and the books could be so overwhelming that she felt like she wouldn’t be able to retain it or that she wanted to know the experience outside of the books and internet. It was in the bonding moments with some of the WAGs where Clemetine was asked in the family room before one of the Wild’s games about if she and Tyson were going to find out the gender, if they were going to keep it a surprise until the birth or if they were going to throw a party. She told them that both she and Tyson automatically knew that they wouldn’t be able to handle it if they kept themselves in the dark about the gender of their baby until the moment they were born– but that they were trying to figure out if they wanted to do a party or just find out themselves.

It was then that Danielle Spurgeon had offered to help plan and host a gender reveal party for them if that was something they were interested in. Clementine, not wanting to make Danielle feel obligated, initially had turned down the offer, saying that it wasn’t necessary since the Spurgeon’s had four kids of their own, which was already a circus. She brought it by Tyson later that night, asking whether he wanted to find out the gender the day of their scan or have a party and Tyson being Tyson said– “oh we have to have a party! I want us to do one of those cute reveals where I shoot a puck or we open a box and there’s balloons.”

The next game day, Danielle came up to Clementine and asked her when it was a good time for them to get lunch so they could talk about party details and what Tyson and Clementine envisioned. Apparently, Tyson had gone up to Jared at the next practice and they talked about the party and everything and thanked Jared for being so hospitable.

The only thing keeping them from the party, was having the actual anatomy scan done to where they could check on how their baby was developing, as well as have the gender handed off to them in an envelope, and Clementine would give it to Danielle tonight at the game.

“Tyson please stop,” Clementine sighed, lolling her head to the side.

He brought the now nearly empty water bottle away from his mouth, looking at her. “Stop what?”

“You were chugging that water bottle and squeezing it and the empty plastic sound was reminding me of how full my bladder is and how bad I have to pee,” her eyes dwindled down to the water bottle he was holding and back up at him. “If you don’t stop, I will pee my pants and I would rather not do that.”

He looked back and forth between her and the water bottle before bringing the bottle back to his mouth and downing the rest of the water, then walking over to the corner of the room where a trash can was and throwing it away. “There, no more water.”

“So everything that I’m seeing right now looks great,” Dr. Cortez smiled, pointing at the screen. “Your little one here is measuring in at just a little over five and a half inches and they’re weighing in at almost seven ounces, which is right where you want to be at 18 weeks.”

Tyson was holding onto Clementine’s hand, but his eyes were glued to the screen and soaking in everything that her OBGYN was saying. Dr. Johnson was taking personal time away from her job, which Clementine was nervous about, especially since she had the ideal of Dr. Johnson being the one to deliver their baby when the time came. However, Dr. Johnson suggested Dr. Cortez as someone to take her place, insuring that she was also one of the best OBGYN’s on their team. So in the case Dr. Johnson wasn’t back from her personal leave, Dr. Cortez had some background on the pregnancy and Clementine and Tyson both could feel comfortable with her. Aside from calming Clementine’s nerves, this was his first time seeing an ultrasound. Sure, he’s stared at the copy Clementine had surprised him with and he’s googled and watched videos on youtube of ultrasounds…but this one was their baby.

He was getting to see their baby move on screen and their outline for the first time with his own eyes. For their announcement, Clementine had made an appointment when she was 13 weeks to get an updated ultrasound, but he was out of town and couldn’t make it. Between that first one from when she found out she was pregnant, to the 13th week…to even now, he was seeing their baby grow. He could start to easily make out what was its head and maybe its arm– their nose if the angle was right since in the first two they had their head turned.

But he wasn’t over being able to see their baby there on the screen, the ultrasound waves catching the movement and he often found himself looking between the screen and Clem’s belly, unable to wrap his mind around how the baby was moving inside of her…and yet when you stared at her stomach, she was completely still.

“Tyson,” he zoned back in and looked down at Clem who was shaking his hand and looked at him with a concerned look. “You okay?”

“Oh, uh, yeah I’m good,” he nodded, squeezing her hand and smiling. “Just got a little zoned out thinking about our little girl,” he dragged out the girl, smiling and nodding at Doctor Cortez. “Am I right doc? Is it a girl?”

Dr. Cortez laughed, shaking her head. “Nice try there, but I know very well that you two are keeping it a secret for your party.”

Tyson sighed, shaking his head. “It was worth a shot. But what did I miss while I was zoned out?”

“I was just talking all of the boring, science stuff. Everything is in the right place, there were no signs of a cleft lip or palate, their spine looked beautiful, arms, legs and all of their little extremities are forming just great,” Dr. Cortez smiled, typing on the computer before freezing the image of their baby’s side profile and putting the transducer wand back up. “Placenta looks great, your cervix is closed and everything else on your end is going very well, Clementine. You and your baby are very, very healthy.”

“Thanks,” Clementine smiled proudly, looking away from Tyson and at the screen. “I’ve been trying to keep up our walks with Fudge, she keeps me active and for some reason, little GUY,” Clementine joked, putting emphasis on the gender, likes a lot of healthy food…mainly broccoli. I could eat that for every meal.”

“And she has,” Tyson chimed in, sighing dramatically. “I make her an omelet? ��Mm, I think broccoli would taste great with this!’ Broccoli as a side dish, as a snack, sometimes with butter, all of the time with hot sauce…broccoli…just tons and tons of broccoli.”

“I think we should be grateful for that,” Clementine said as Dr. Cortez wiped off the excess gel from her stomach. “Maybe then getting him to eat his vegetables won’t be as hard seeing as you never ate yours.”

“She’ll do just fine, thank you,” he smiled teasingly, leaning down and giving her a quick kiss. “Right doc?”

Dr. Cortez just laughed and shook her head. “I’ll go grab you guys your copies of the scans and then you’re free to go.”

Once Dr. Cortez left the room, Tyson let go of Clementine's hand and walked around the end of the exam table, coming up beside the screen and sitting down on the free space of the table. He looked at the screen that was still displaying the frozen image of their baby in black and white, and tilted his head to the side.

“What?” Clementine asked, resting her hand on his arm.

“I think they’ve got your nose,” he said, looking at her.

“It’s a 2D image, Tys,” Clementine laughed, sitting herself up and letting her sweatshirt fall back down over her bump. “There’s no way you can tell that.”

“Sure I can, see?” He said, reaching out and carefully tracing along the side profile of their baby’s nose. “They’ve got that same, cute little slope that you do.”

Tyson helped her sit up the rest of the way, shifting down the exam bed so she could turn towards the monitor and let her legs hang off the bed. Clementine leaned closer to the monitor, copying Tyson’s earlier mannerism of tilting his head to the side. “If you really focus and squint a little…oh huh.”

“Mhhm,” Tyson said, following her to try and see what she was talking about. “What? What is it?”

“You can see that they might get your forehead,” she smiled, bumping into him.

Tyson looked at her, the smile off his face as he rolled his eyes. “You’re annoying.”

“No I’m not, you love me.” Clem looped her arm through his and snuggled down into his side before focusing back on the screen. “Really though, I think they might have those adorable chubby cheeks you and Kacey had back when you were kids.”

“Really?” He asked, perking up a bit as he looked at the screen.

Clementine nodded, reaching forward and pointing at the baby’s side profile, outlining their cheek. “Oh yeah, look how they protrude out.” She looked back at Tyson with a smile. “Looks like you’ll have to fight off all of the people who will want to pinch them like they did yours.”

“Oh trust me, I will. “I won’t let our kid endure all the pinched cheeks Kace and I did.”” he nodded, looking at her with a soft smile. “So I was thinking about something.”

“Oh no,” she joked, looking worried. “Should I be concerned?”

Tyson rolled his eyes and shook his head. “No, but remember how we were considering doing one of those super detailed scans?”

“The 4D ultrasound? Mhhm, why?”

“I think we should do it,” he said, shrugging as he looked back at the monitor. “I’m too impatient to wait nine months before we can see what she…they look like. I kinda want to know now.”

Clementine laughed as she moved to get off of the exam table, Tyson helping her out. “We can do it, but I was doing some research and they said the best time would probably be around 24-28 weeks. So, you’d have to wait just a little longer.”

“If I have to,” he faked a dramatic sigh before smiling as he intertwined his fingers with her. “Though I mean come on…look at them. They’ve totally got your nose.”

Now being closer, Clementine and Tyson both examined the monitor up close, taking in all the details of the black and white 2D image of their baby. “Hm, you’re right, they totally do,” she smiled, looking up at him.

“Good, because that just means they’ll be just like their mom,” he smiled, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his chest, resting his chin on top of her head. “Who I love, very, very much.”

Clementine looked up, resting her chin on his chest. “I love you too.”

The one thing that Clementine was most grateful for when she and Tyson decided to take up Danielle’s offer of hosting a gender reveal party at her and Jared’s home, was that the pivotal 20 weeks, or the halfway mark when they would have it, fell right at the beginning of the All-Star break. The two of them were insistent to his teammates and their friends that they didn’t need to hang around just for the party, knowing that the break during the season was when most took the time to travel. But nonetheless they felt loved when they decided to hang around, and even more so when a few of their friends from Colorado decided to stop by before heading out on their vacations.

It was the mix and the best of their years spent in Colorado and Minnesota, seeing the support from some of their closest friends that made the day so special. It was humorous seeing big, NHL playing men, who were always so competitive on the ice, play baby shower themed games and argue over whether or not their prediction for a gender was right. Tyson had surprised Clementine with her grandparents, despite weeks earlier she assured them it was okay if they didn’t want to fly into Minnesota considering their growing age. So when they had driven to the airport to go pick up his mom, Kacey and grandparents, she was surprised to see both of her Grandparents walking alongside them as well that Tyson panicked the moment she imploded into tears in the middle of the airport.

With the party in full swing it was easy for Clementine and Tyson to get lost in mingling amongst their friends and enjoying the catered snacks and decorations. Clementine had also managed to thank Danielle and Jared more than a handful of times for offering to host the party and Danielle for also planning the majority of it, aside from the parts where Clementine offered things she’d like to see and preferred to have. Between the two of them, Tyson was nervous and Clementine was excited. To her, there was no second guessing what their baby was going to be. She’d known from the very beginning, just felt it in her gut that they were going to have a boy. Tyson didn’t have a preference or even a guess– he was just excited to be there and to finally be able to call her bump by one of the names they’d narrowed down to for either gender.

So when it came time for them to stand in front of all of their friends and family to reveal the gender in true hockey player fashion– shooting a pink or blue powdered filled puck off of a shooting deck provided by Jared– Tyson was the one who was hesitating because of nerves. He took a little extra time in making sure his hands were set up right as if holding a hockey stick wasn’t what he did for a living, or prolonging his ‘thank you for being here’ speech as his thumb picked at the buttend of the stick.

“Josty if you delay this any longer, that kid of yours is going to be sixteen and asking for a car! And they haven’t even been born yet!” Gabe yelled out, earning a smack on the arm from Mel.

Tyson rolled his eyes, pointing the hockey stick at him. “You’re lucky I don’t have you removed.” He replied, before standing by the puck. “You can get off the deck, Clem. I don’t want you to get hit.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that,” Clementine laughed, stepping off of the shooting deck once Tyson kissed her temple and stood just across from him with their friends and family behind her.

She stood there nervously with her back turned to their friends and family as she rested her hands on her bump, something she caught herself doing every day from the moment she’d found out she was pregnant and even more so once her bump started to grow. She stared at Tyson who was dressed in jeans and a pink polo, Clementine having picked out which shirt for him to wear since he insisted on wearing pink because he was on team girl. And he chirped her the entire time while she tried to sort through which blue dress to wear.

“It’s February, Clem. It’s cold outside.”

“It’s the nicest day it’s been all winter. I’ll wear tights and a jacket.”

And she did. Wear the nude tights and a cream colored jacket that matched well with the baby blue criss cross tie backless dress. But she was starting to feel a little cold and was hoping that Tyson would shoot the puck and reveal that they were expecting a boy just so she could go back inside and enjoy a large glass of hot chocolate. And when she saw Tyson start his swing, it was like time had slowed and she could only focus on Tyson and the sound of her heart thumping inside of her chest. Her breath held as he swung forward and when he shot the puck forward, the breath was stuck in her throat and her heart stopped.

“What? What is it?” Tyson asked, turning around to face her as their friends and family all cheered at the reveal. “Clem what is it I can’t tell. This was a bad idea, I should’ve worn those glasses–”

“It’s pink,” Clementine finally spoke, swallowing the knot in her throat as she finally looked away from the pink cloud and over at Tyson, tears filling her eyes. “It’s a girl.”

“It is?” He smiled, the joy clearly taking over as his smile only grew bigger. “I knew it! I told you I knew it!”

He dropped the stick and ran over to her, wrapping his arms around her and picking her up. “Tyson, careful!” She gasped, resting her hands on his shoulders as he spun her around, keeping her in his arms even when he stopped. “Come on, put me down in case you drop me.”

“I wouldn’t dare drop my two girls,” he gasped, placing her down onto the ground and moving his arms up her side until he interlocked his fingers behind her back, digging his thumbs carefully into the more tense than normal area. “So now that we know…what do you think about announcing the name to everyone?”

“Yeah,” she smiled softly, playing with the ends of her jacket.

When his eyes locked onto hers, she held his gaze for a few seconds before looking away, noticing how his eyes were skimming across her face to take in her mood. “You okay?”

Clementine nodded, forcing the smile to stay on her face before letting go of the ends of her jacket and rubbing her arms. “Just a little cold. Maybe we can tell everyone inside?”

“You sure you’re–”

“Tys, I’m fine,” she replied, stepping forward and kissing his cheek. “I’m just a little cold and would like to go inside, please.”

Tyson nodded, moving beside her and keeping one hand on the small of her back. “Okay, go ahead and head inside, I’ll tell everyone we’re moving back in.”

“Thank you,” Clementine smiled, leaning over and kissing him, pulling back just slightly to look at him. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he smiled, bringing his free hand up onto her forming bump before leaning down and kissing it. “And I also love you too, our little girl.”

Once he stood up, Clementine started to make her way off of the Spurgeon’s grass, hearing Tyson following behind her and stopping short to make his announcement. “Okay, we’re not having everyone freeze or catch a cold on our watch, so let’s move everyone back inside where Clem and I have another announcement we’d like to make!”

She wasn’t able to get a moment to herself as everyone was following into the Spurgeon’s home right behind her, flooding into the living room and open kitchen as Tyson and Jared made sure everyone was inside before Jared closed the door. And just before she could excuse herself from another congratulations, Tyson had walked up beside Clementine and rested his hand on the small of her back, leading her to the center of the living room so they were once again in front of everyone.

“Tys, can we maybe do this later?” Clementine whispered, looking up at him as she watched their families settle into their spots to where they were in clear view of them both. “I’m feeling a little thirsty.”

“It’ll only take a quick minute, then I’ll grab you a drink,” he said, squeezing her hip as he looked down at her with a smile. “Promise.”

Clementine sighed, nodding her head again before leaning her head against his shoulder and brushing her hand around his waist. “Okay.”

“Again, Clem and I would like to thank everyone for coming. All of our friends and families, we know travel can be stressful and you guys all could’ve started your vacations a day earlier, but it means a lot. And of course to Jared and Danielle for hosting at their beautiful home. We appreciate every single one of you and are thankful that you guys chose to be here to celebrate our little girl.”

Her heart continued to thud against her chest as she stood there, trying not to look their guests in the eye for longer than a few seconds and trying her best to keep her smile on her face, but it was getting progressively harder the longer that he talked.

“Clem and I have talked names since way before this ever happened, but when it became real we got serious about it, having plenty of options for both boys and girls. And now that we know that we’re going to have a girl…we thought we might share with you all, the name we settled on for our little girl.” Tyson looked down at Clem and squeezed her hip reassuringly as he gave her a smile.

“We went through a lot of names, and trust me…Tys took this very seriously, it was almost a headache sometimes,” she laughed, clearing her throat and thankful that she no longer was having to force the smile on her face as she looked directly at where Tyson’s mom and Nana were sitting. She rested her right hand on her bump as she looked at him. “But we both agreed that if we were going to have a girl, we wanted our daughter to be named after the two women in our lives who influenced us the most growing up.”

“Yes,” Kacey smiled, jokingly pumping her fist as Tyson just waved her off.

Clementine leaned her head more against Tyson’s chest as she looked back in their direction. “So we’ve decided to name her Bailey Frances Jost.” She watched as the look of realization crossed both her Nana’s and Laura’s faces as everyone else focused on the family.

“For those of you who don’t know, my mom’s middle name is Bailey, which is where we got Bailey from. And Frances is Clem’s Nana’s name,” Tyson chimed in, motioning towards the two women. “And it was a very easy thing to agree on naming our daughter after the two of you.”

“Laura, you’ve been like a second mom to me the moment I met you. Marrying your son might have officially made me a part of your family in a legal sense, but you’ve brought me into your family the moment you picked up Tyson from Nana’s after school that first day.” Clementine smiled, looking from Tyson’s mom to her Nana, the tears building in her eyes. “Nana, you’re my mom. You’ve loved me and raised me all these years. The both of you have taught me so many things in life, but the most important thing is that the two of you have shown me just what a strong woman looks like and have molded me into the person that I am today.”

Clementine swallowed the knot in her throat as she tried to ground herself by moving the fabric of her dress with her fingertips. “And Tys and I hope that our daughter will be just as strong as the both of you.”

“Except I hope she doesn’t pull on my ear when she gets mad,” Tyson joked, breaking up the tension filled emotional moment. “That I hope is a habit she doesn’t get from the both of you.”

“But enough of the emotional sappy stuff,” Tyson said, clapping his hands together. “There’s still tons of food and drinks to eat, and plenty of fun to have. So, enjoy everybody!”

Clementine turned towards Tyson, brushing her hand against his back. “Tys–”

But before she could excuse herself to the bathroom for a moment to herself, Tyson kissed her before holding her against him, nodding his head. “I know you said you were thirsty, so let’s go get you something to drink and then you can sit down for a bit to rest your feet and warm up. Does that sound okay?”

From holding her smile from the moment that plastic puck exploded into pink powder, Clementine could feel the sides of her mouth start to twitch, but was still holding strong so she wouldn’t be caught in even the slightest expression of disappointment. “That sounds perfect,” she nodded, leaning into him as the two of them started to walk towards the kitchen.

For a party that’s main event had happened almost twenty minutes earlier, the whole thing was still swinging. None of the guests had left, there was still food and drinks to eat, the kids were running around and having a great time. One part that Clemetine hadn’t expected, was that their gender reveal party, was also secretly doubled as their baby shower– seeing as the timing of a baby shower when it’s normally done would have been in June, and it was up in the air whether or not the Wild would be in postseason.

So when she was once again, thanking people for all of the congratulations and making small talk, still trying to slip away for a moment for herself, Danielle had come up to her and told her how the rest of the WAGs decided to throw her a baby shower as well, that the presents everyone had bought had been ushered off by Jared and Tyson into a separate room– and it was time for her and Tyson both to sit down and open the gifts.

It was easy to excuse herself from Danielle, just by saying “of course, just let me go to the bathroom really quick and I’ll be right there,” was she able to get away from the party and go down the hall to one of the Spurgeon’s bathroom, closing the door. And once she was all alone with nobody around, she could finally stop holding back the true emotions she was feeling.

Hot tears slid down her cheeks, almost too fast for her to keep up with. Every wipe of her cheeks with the palm of her hand was pointless as tears quickly just fell right back down. She was leaning against the bathroom door, her upper back and head against the white painted wood being her support as she stood there and just cried. When she felt the sobs strangling in her throat, she reached out and pressed the switch that was next to the lightswitch, turning on the fan to hopefully muffle the noise. And when it was getting hard to breathe and she felt the snot drip from her nose, she moved herself away from the door and over to the sink, reaching down over the side and grabbing herself some toilet paper to blow and wipe her nose.

This was supposed to be the happiest moment of her life. She was going to be a mom. Her and Tyson were starting a family and actually having a real baby. Yet all of the excitement leading up these 11 weeks since she found out she was pregnant– the ultrasound appointments, the weekly updates Tyson read on the pregnancy tracking app they’d both downloaded, reading the baby books, spending too much time in the baby clothes aisles at stores, buying the furniture, putting together the nursery– all of that came crashing down on her in one single moment.

The moment that Tyson had taken the shot that exploded that plastic puck into a big cloud of pink, telling them that they were having a girl.

It was almost like that moment was the worst nightmare she’d never realized she’d had.

Suddenly, the bathroom door opened and she jumped in place out of fright. “Hey Clem–” Tyson stopped in the doorway, the concern written all over his face as he took in her appearance. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Get out, Tyson,” she said, barely recognizing her own voice but feeling the ache in her throat that was sore from crying.

He tried to walk into the bathroom, looking more worried than before. “Clem–”

“Leave! Go!” She yelled, pushing him back out of the door. “Leave me alone.”

She had managed to get him out of the door, Tyson clearly not putting up too much of a fight since if he had, he would’ve easily been able to power his way into the bathroom. But that didn’t mean he was letting her shut the door on him so easily, because that was where she was currently struggling.

“Clem come on,” he pleaded, and she could recognize a slight fear in his eyes as he looked at her and took in her puffy face, reddened cheeks and tear filled eyes. “Tell me what’s wrong, talk to me.”

“I want to be alone, Tyson,” she sniffled, wiping her nose with the inside of the jacket sleeve. “Just go–”

He pushed the door back open as she tried to shut it the rest of the way and shook his head. “Do you want me to get Nana? My mom–”

“No! I don’t want to talk to Nana, or you just–” Clementine felt her bottom lip start to quiver as she hung her head, sniffling. “Tyson please just go,” her voice wavered as she felt a new wave of tears fill her eyes. “Please.”

“Okay,” he spoke softly, and she could hear the resistance he was dealing with, not wanting to let her be alone in the bathroom but also not wanting to stress her out or make her upset anymore. “Okay, I’ll just…I guess I’ll just hold Danielle off on the baby shower gifts for a bit.”

Clementine just nodded before finally being able to close the door, shutting Tyson out of the bathroom and then locking the door this time. She closed her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath before exhaling slowly and leaning her head against the wooden door, the sobs escaping from the back of her throat once more.

It was bad enough that she was crying because of the news that they were having a daughter, but it was even worse now, that Tyson had found her crying. Though to him, he probably assumed it was because of her pregnancy hormones– “tons of pregnant people cry, Clem. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” But she could only imagine the look on his face or what he would think of her when he found out she was crying because they weren’t having a son, but a daughter.

Would he be heartbroken? Ashamed? Angry? Would they get into a fight about how she should be ashamed for feeling this way? That she was a bad mom for not being as happy and excited as he was about their child? What would he say of her reasoning for her feelings she hadn’t even been fully aware of until this moment? Would he say it was just an excuse? Invalidate them?

Clementine hadn’t even realized the reasons why she had been preferring a son this entire time, not until the reality set in that they were having a daughter. Sure, there were small feelings of dread anytime Tyson mentioned their baby being a girl, but she always figured it was just because ideally she wanted a boy– just like they’d talked about. But then she realized, standing there in the living room and socializing with the guests post gender reveal, just why having girls never crossed her mind.

She loved their baby, she had from the moment she found out she was pregnant. But seeing that pink cloud…it scared her. It scared her because she suddenly saw a path form in her mind that she’d never even considered and maybe it was because she’d spent so many years pushing it into the very back depths of her mind…but here it was again, taunting her and staring her in the face with a haunting grin that seemed to say “this could be you in a few short months.”

A small knock came from the door, vibrating against Clementine’s head and brought her out of her thoughts. “Clementine?” It was Laura and she must have been speaking directly against the door, because Clem could hear her loud and clear, even in the soft and quiet voice she was using, probably to try and not bring attention to herself. “Clementine, sweetie…why don’t you let me in?”

Part of her felt angry at Tyson for getting his mom, because that meant that he’d told her what he’d seen. All she wanted was to be alone. She was embarrassed and scared and just wanted to deal with all of that with nobody else around her. The other part of her was telling her to answer the door, to let Laura in and tell her everything that she didn’t want Tyson or even Nana and Papa to know. Not that she didn’t trust them to not be angry at her for the way she felt, but because she didn’t want to hurt their feelings.

She was feeling this way about Tyson’s daughter, and it all stemmed from her own mother– Nana and Papa’s daughter. And sure, the baby she was carrying was going to be Laura’s first grandchild…but Clementine would feel more comfortable venting her feelings to her than them. Laura had been there from the moment Clem and Tyson became friends. She was another mother figure for her. She had done what Clementine’s own mother hadn’t– she’d raised her two kids when their dad wasn’t around, while Clementine’s had decided she wasn’t worth the hassle and dropped her off on a front porch in the snow.

And though it’s been 11 weeks from the moment she’d found out she was pregnant– the impending thought of how she’d turn out just like her mother, was just not starting to come to the forefront…all because of that exploding cloud of pink dust.

Clementine wiped her face with the sleeve of her jacket as she unlocked the bathroom door and stepped aside, opening it just slightly so Laura could come in. Once she saw her start to come in, Clementine moved further into the bathroom, giving Laura room to stand in there with her. She hugged her arms close to her as she watched Laure close and lock the door behind her before turning around to face her.

“Tyson told me you were upset,” she spoke carefully, almost as if she was trying to gauge how Clementine would react to her presence. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

The simple question just brought Clementine to tears as she felt her face start to scrunch and her vision blurred. She shook her head as she sniffled and hugged her arms closer to her, signaling to Laura that she, for the moment, was unable to speak. And Laura just stepped closer to her, holding her arms out to show that she was going to hug her before wrapping her arms around Clementine and hugging her tightly, rubbing her back as she just broke down against her sweater.

“Shh, it’s okay Clem,” Laure whispered, brushing her hand down the back of Clementine’s hair. “Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay.”

Clementine held onto Laura tightly, feeling the fabric of her sweater bunched in her palms as her heart raced. “I can’t have a daughter,” she whimpered, scared to hear Laura’s reaction as her breathing picked up. “I can’t, Laura. I just, I–I–”

Laura pulled back out of their hug and for a split second, Clementine’s worst fears came true– that no matter who she confided in, they would be ashamed or upset at her current feelings. But instead of reprimanding her like she feared, Laura brought her hands up to Clementine’s face, cupping her chin and getting her to look at her.

“Clementine, you need to take a deep breath, okay?” She spoke calmly, nodding her head as she took a deep breath herself. “Breathe with me, just follow me and relax.”

Clementine nodded her head as she looked at her through blurred vision, trying her best to slow down her rapid breathing by breathing along with Laura. A deep breath in…a slow exhale out. Again and again, until her racing heart calmed down and she was no longer breathing rapidly through her mouth. 

“Good, Clem, good,” Laura smiled, still keeping her focus on her. “Now tell me again what’s wrong.”

“I can’t…have a daughter, Laura,” Clementine spoke softly, averting her eyes away from Laura’s as she shook her head. “I…I wanted a boy because…” she felt her throat tighten and she stopped, taking another deep breath and exhaling.

“Why do you think you can’t have a daughter, Clementine?” Laura asked, keeping her calm and soothing voice.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek, trying to gain some composure before she could bring herself to look back at Laura and answer. “I’m scared,” her bottom lip quivered as she looked back at Laura. “I’m scared that I won’t be a good mom to her like Nana and you we-were to me. That I’ll be just like my mom.” She sniffled and reached up, wiping at her eyes.

Laura nodded, removing her hands from Clementine’s face before walking over towards the toilet, motioning for Clementine to sit down on top of the closed lid. Clementine walked over and sat down in front of Laura, resting her hands in her lap as Laura grabbed some toilet paper and dampened it in the sink before she started to wipe at what was probably the mascara streaks on Clementine’s face.

“I only came into your life when you were five years old, so I didn’t know your mother personally. But what I do know is that she missed out on the beautiful, smart, kind, passionate and overall amazing woman you grew up to be.” Laura said, carefully wiping beneath Clementine’s eyes. “I can’t speak for the kind of woman she was, though I do know I can say for certain that I can’t fathom why she left you the way that she did.”

Laura tossed the toilet paper into the trashcan before grabbing and rolling up a few more sheets and carefully blotting her skin. “But what I do know is that you were raised by the two most loving people I’ve met aside from my own parents. With the way your mother left you behind, you could’ve turned out very differently, Clementine. You could’ve been angry, bitter, you could’ve never found yourself in this very place– married with a baby on the way. But I truly believe that while you are your mother’s daughter genetically, you are more of Frances and Howard than you have ever been or ever will be Adelisa.”

Clementine felt the tears build in her eyes again as she took in Laura’s words. “What if I’m not a good mom?” She whispered, playing with her hands. “I know I’m not going to abandon her like my mom did me…but what if I’m not like your or Nana? What if I’m just like her?”

“I’m going to tell you what my mom told me when I took Tyson home from the hospital after he was born and absolutely terrified I was going to screw up” she said, tossing the toilet paper into the small trash can before squatting down in front of Clementine and holding her hands. “As long as you’re trying your very best and your baby is loved, you’re already on your way to being a good mom.”

“Clementine, I’ve seen how excited and how invested you are in taking care of yourself and your baby. You’ve been reading books, doing the research on what the safest furniture is, you’ve been eating healthy– you’re already a good mom.” Laura said, squeezing her hands and looking her in the eyes as if she was trying to hammer it into her head.

“Even if I just spent the last five minutes crying in a bathroom because of pink dust?” Clementine sniffled, feeling like she was a child again.

“Even if you’re upset because it was pink dust and not blue.” Laura laughed, nodding her head. “You know, when I found out Tyson was a boy, I was upset. Not so much along the lines of why you are, but because I’d read horror stories about diaper changing for baby boys when I was reading books. I was terrified to be peed on.”

Clementine laughed and wiped her eyes, nodding her head. “When we read that Tyson said he was going to buy hazmat suits off of Amazon to wear during a diaper change.”

When things settled down, Laura squeezed her hands again, giving her a supportive smile. “I’m not saying you can’t or shouldn’t be upset Clementine, because your reasons are very, very valid. And even if they weren’t, gender disappointment is real and it’s okay. But I’m going to tell you right now, that I know deep down inside of my heart, that you,” she held her hands tightly, looking directly into her eyes and nodding. “You are going to be an incredible mother. And if you need any help or have any questions, you know you can reach out to your Nana and Papa and me, heck– you know my parents would love to help you both as well. You and Tyson aren’t alone in this, especially you. You’ve got us in your corner, even Kacey. Okay?”

“Okay,” she nodded, leaning forward and hugging Laura tightly before leaning back and standing up.

“Before we go back out there, I do think this should be something you talk to Tyson about,” she spoke carefully, nodding her head. “He won’t be upset, Clementine, I promise. He wants to support you and be there for you in any way that he can– and communication during a pregnancy is very important.”

Clementine nodded, wiping her eyes again. “I’ll talk to him tonight. And I’ll probably ask Dr. Cortez or Dr. Johnson if maybe they know someone I can talk to, too. For that and for other parents' fears, you know?”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” she smiled, walking to the bathroom door and looking back over her shoulder. “Are you ready to go out there?”

Clementine nodded as she let go of Laura’s hand and the two walked out of the bathroom, back down the hall to rejoin the party. As if he’d been spending his entire time standing within eyeshot of the hall entrance, Tyson made eye contact with them both and then immediately excused himself from his conversation with Gabe and rushed over to them.

“I’ll go check on Frances and Howard,” Laura said, giving Clemetine a supportive nod and smile before rubbing Tyson’s shoulder and walking away from them.

Tyson looked behind him at the party before nudging Clementine back into the hall, allowing them to have some sort of privacy away from partygoer eyes. “I know you said you just wanted to be alone but–”

Clementine just wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed herself against his chest, hugging him. “Thank you,” she whispered, closing her eyes as she focused on the sound of his heart beating through his chest.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, holding her tightly as if he didn’t want to let her go. “You scared me there for a bit Clem. I didn’t know if something had happened to you or to the baby or–”

“For right now everything’s fine. I’m fine,” Clementine nodded, pulling out of the hug and looking at him, grabbing his hand and resting it on top of her bump and keeping her hand on top of his. “And she’s perfectly fine.”

Tyson looked down, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Then what happened? Is it the party? Did you not want to do a baby shower too?” He looked out towards the party, shaking his head and looking back at her. “Because if so I can go out and tell Danielle and Jared–”

“No, Tyson, it’s not the party, the party is fine and right now, I’m fine,” she nodded, taking a deep breath and exhaling. “Let’s just enjoy the rest of the party and tonight when we go home, I promise I’ll tell you everything…okay?”

“You promise?” He asked, still a concerned frown on his face.

Clementine nodded, holding up her right pinky. “Pinky promise.”

Tyson looked down at her hand and smiled softly, linking his right pinky with hers before leaning in and kissing her, pulling away just barely. “You really scared me, Clementine,” he said, pressing another kiss to her forehead. “I was about to have them stop the party and find a way to break into the bathroom.”

“I’m sorry, Tys,” she said, hugging him again and resting her chin on his chest, looking up at him. “I promise I didn’t mean to. I just got very overwhelmed and swept up in my thoughts and…” she exhaled, not letting herself get emotional again. “I’ll explain everything when we’re home and in bed, okay?”

He nodded, and she could still tell he was a little worried about her, but she leaned up and kissed him again before stepping back and holding his hand. “Come on, we’ve got some presents to open for little miss here.” She pressed her hand on her bump, still a little hesitant, but not wanting to let her own thoughts get in the way of what is a good day. “I just hope the clothes are all gender neutral if people bought them.”

“Don’t worry, they are,” he nodded, squeezing her hand softly. “Danielle and I made sure it was in a small note at the bottom if anyone was going to buy clothes as a gift, to make sure it was gender neutral. So it’s safe to say Bailey here might be wearing a lot of yellows, greens and gray for a bit.” He joked, a more natural smile on his face.

“I’m sure she’ll love it,” Clemetine replied, smiling at him as she leaned her head against his bicep and kept her left hand on her bump, softly rubbing against the fabric of her dress and feeling a little more at ease now than she had initially.

Small steps…that’s all she needed to focus on right now. Just the small steps and she knew that with Tyson and their families by their side, she’d get to where she needed to be.

Third Trimester

The Wild’s postseason run for the 2023-2024 season had unfortunately come to an end in the second round with a loss to Dallas Stars. What had turned out to be a heartbreaking series that the Wild had started off with a bang and ended up losing by two games, the impending birth of their daughter was perhaps the only thing that had kept Tyson from feeling blue for too long. Not too long after wrapping up the season, Tyson and Clementine had packed up what they were going to take back to their home in St. Albert, secured their home for the time being and then made their way back to their hometown for the remainder of the summer as they waited for the arrival of their daughter.

Clementine had stuck with her promise of telling Tyson about what had happened in the bathroom at their gender reveal party and why she was so upset. And just like Laura had said, Tyson wasn’t upset at her for the fact that she had been disappointed with the reveal that they were having a daughter or the fear of how she wouldn’t be able to be a good mom or didn’t want a daughter. If anything, he was supportive.

Just like his mom had done, Tyson had given her a pep-talk, assuring her that she was going to be a great mom. But also doubling down on how she didn’t need to feel ashamed for feeling the way she did and more importantly, that she didn’t need to fear how he would react, because he was always going to be on her team– she was his best friend. Together, they had reached out to Dr. Cortez shortly after the gender reveal party, who had put them in touch with a therapist that she often recommended to other soon-to-be or already are, mothers who just needed someone to talk to in regards to pregnancy or their post-birth life. And twice a week over the computer, Clementine would talk to her therapist– Cindy– and started to find her way in navigating her feelings about her mom, her pregnancy and their daughter.

And even when they moved back up to St. Albert, Tyson joined in on the sessions, learning how he could support Clementine when maybe things were getting rough or things felt stressful after the baby was born. Their sessions were especially helpful when they had to switch their OBGYN for when the baby was born, since they were going to be up in St. Albert. Having to switch OBGYN’s twice during one pregnancy wasn’t common, and for a first time mom, Clementine felt super stressed. But, her sessions with Tyson and Cindy, as well as her Nana and Laura helping her find a good OB helped her through it. And she knew that when they were back in Minnesota, that Dr. Cortez and Dr. Johnson (seeing if she was back) would both be there for any questions or concerns she had following the birth.

Now though, at 36 weeks pregnant and only being four weeks away from giving birth, Clementine felt more confident and comfortable in her potential of being a mother, and even moreso, with the fact that they were having a daughter.

Despite living in Minnesota for the eight to nine months out of the year, their home in St. Albert still felt like home. They only lived five minutes away from their families and their house was of similar size and features to their home in Minnesota. The only downside, was that they’d spent the last few weeks unpacking the boxes of baby clothes and diapers they’d shipped up here knowing they’d be up here for at least almost three months. That also included nursery furniture they’d bought for their home here that needed to be unpacked and put together, along with the nursery in general that needed to be decorated and put together.

It was a lot of things, but they’d managed to do most of them together. At least when Tyson let Clementine help out instead of telling her to just relax and hang out with Fudge or whichever family member had come over to visit that day.

He had done it again today too. Up in the nursery, Clementine had finished unpacking the clothes and diapers and set up both the inside of what would be Bailey’s closet. She’d also finished filling the metal over the door hanger that would hold diaper changing supplies and other stuff they could put in the closet that was overflow from the drawers of the changing table. She offered to help Tyson put together the crib, only for Tyson to suggest that maybe she go downstairs and relax for a bit. That he would only be a little bit longer before he was coming downstairs to make lunch for them.

While part of her had felt a little annoyed at how he insisted she didn’t help, she knew that he was only doing so because she was so far along now that it was important that she didn’t exert herself too much. Plus, she really couldn’t stand up by herself or even see her toes, so she never allowed herself to get too mad when he would brush her off. He was right though, she did need to sit down and rest for a bit, her back was starting to ache and she’d been feeling the throbbing in her feet get worse by the second.

Fudge had followed her downstairs, just like she’d been following her around the house anywhere she went. Clementine had let Fudge out into the backyard, standing there in the doorframe and using it as a means of support while she waited for Fudge to go to the bathroom and sniff around for a few minutes. And when Fudge came back in, she slid the door shut and locked it, turning around and making her way over to couch in the living room. She knew she was tired when she could actually feel herself get excited about laying down and propping her feet up onto a few pillows.

Yet before she could even make it to the couch to sit down, the doorbell rang. Clementine sighed, feeling a little disappointed that she hadn’t been able to sit down for a bit. But she knew that their families were constantly making stops by the house as her due date got closer. Most of the time they were just stopping in to make sure everything was okay and seeing if they needed anything before hanging around and then going home. Today though, she knew that Kacey was planning on stopping by with Nana and Laura to help with hanging some of the wall decorations they’d gotten for the nursery.

When Clementine got to the door, she looked through the peephole and saw two teenagers standing there– a boy and a girl. The girl looked to be 18, maybe 19 years old and the boy looked to be about the same age, maybe a little younger despite being taller than her. They both had dark brown hair and looked like they could even be siblings. School wasn’t in session, so she wasn’t sure why they were on her porch, but they also looked a little nervous, the two of them talking to each other quietly– not that Clemetine could hear them anyway.

She really needed to get someone out there to install their Ring doorbell.

Nothing about the two teenagers seemed threatening, so she stepped away from the peephole and unlocked the door, opening it and seemingly catching the two teenagers by surprise as she stood on the opposite side of the screen door they’d had installed for days when the weather was nice and they just wanted to sit inside of the house and feel the breeze or hear the rain echo through.

“Hello,” Clementine said, looking at the two of them as she held onto the front door for a little support. “How can I help you guys?”

She was met with shocked stares as both teenagers turned away from each other and faced her. She was starting to feel a little uneasy with the awkward silence that was passing between the three of them, almost considering closing the door on them until she saw the boy nudge the girl beside him. 

“Are you Clementine Blake?” She said fast, a little loud too and blushing after the words had left her mouth. Almost as if she hadn’t meant for the question to come out that way.

“It’s Clementine Jost now…but yes, that’s me.” Clementine furrowed her eyebrows as she looked between the two teens, feeling confused on how they knew her name. “I’m sorry, do I know you two?”

“No…well yeah, kind of…I guess,” the boy rambled, seeming just as nervous as his sister and when he looked at her, it looked as if he was hoping she would fill in for him– help him not be as nervous. But she was still looking at Clementine as if she was in a sort of confused disbelief. “I’m Hayden Johnston and this is my older sister Emily.”

There was something familiar about the two of them that Clementine couldn’t quite put her finger on. She wasn’t sure if it was their names or their faces, but she felt like she’d seen them before…or knew them somehow. She opened her mouth to speak when the girl– Emily– suddenly seemed to zone back in from her own shock and spoke instead.

“Our dad’s Thomas Johnston and our mom’s Adelisa Johnston…formally Adelisa Blake,” Emily swallowed heavily as she motioned towards Hayden, looking at Clementine with a nervous gaze. “We’re your half-siblings.”

It was like all of the breath had been sucked out of her lungs at the mere mention of her mom’s name. And the two of them– Emily and Hayden– they were her half-siblings. Her mom had had more kids…she had siblings after all these years. And suddenly, with the news, she could see the similarities between them. All three had the same dark hair and the same eye shape. Hayden and her both had their mom’s eyes, while Emily had green eyes– presumably coming from their father’s side.

“I’m sorry,” Clementine finally spoke, clearing her throat as her grip on the door tightened and she started to feel the tears burn in her eyes. “I just…how old are you guys?”

“I just turned 19 last week, on wednesday…June eighth.” Emily said, still looking a little cautious at the situation.

“And I turned 18 in February,” Hayden spoke carefully, digging his hands into his short pockets. “February 15th, actually.”

Their birthdays were a day apart. Clementine had been born on February 14th– Valentines Day. While Hayden’s was February 15th. Obviously they were years apart in age– but that made her wonder if her mother ever thought about her as his birthday neared. Did she even celebrate her birthday? Clearly she had to have done something to make the two of them find their way to her home.

They knew about her. They came searching for her.

But why? How?

She wasn’t sure what to say next or how to even feel. Sure, she felt hurt by the fact her mother started a whole new family without her. Part of her felt angry too– but she’d spent so many years angry at her mother, she wasn’t really sure if there was any more anger to have. More than anything, she just felt confused.

“Clem, have you seen my flathead screwdriver? It’s not in my kit.” Tyson asked, his footsteps echoing through the house as he walked down the stairs before making his way over. “Who’s at the door?”

She looked over her shoulder to see Tyson coming closer and then stepped aside to make room for him. “Tyson, this is–”

“Oh!” He said, stopping by the front door and smiling. “You guys must be Emily and Hayden.”

“How do you know that?” Clementine asked, looking at him in confusion.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have come over…” Emily said, still clearly a little on edge as she looked at Hayden. “We can go–”

“No, no, come on in,” Tyson said, unlatching the screen door and nudging it open. “I was just getting ready to make us lunch. Nana Blake told me you were coming, so come on in.”

The two teenagers shared a look before Emily made the first move to walk into the house, carefully stepping inside and standing off to the side to wait for Hayden to follow behind. “Your house is beautiful,” she said, looking around her. “It’s really homey, I love it.”

“Thanks, Clem did some of the decorating,” Tyson joked, closing the screen door and locking it again.

“Some?” Clementine said, shutting the front door and crossing her arms. “I did all of it. If you did any decorating, the living room would be nothing but sports memorabilia.”

“Kidding, babe,” he said, stepping towards her and kissing her cheek. “You two go ahead into the kitchen, it’s straight ahead. Fudge is probably eating out of her bowel, don’t mind her. She’s a real sweetheart. If she tries to jump on you, just tell her no and she’ll get right down, no hard feelings.”

The two siblings took their shoes off by the front door before slowly making their way towards the kitchen, walking side by side as if they were sticking together and unsure about whether or not they should have accepted Tyson’s invitation.

“Nana told you?!” Clementine whispered, grabbing onto Tyson’s arm as she looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah…I just forgot to tell you,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Pregnancy brain is contagious, you know.”

Clementine shook her head and let go of his arm, hugging her arms close to her chest as she looked off towards the kitchen. “I– I don’t know what to do, Tys. What do I say? I don’t know them and they– I don’t even know what they know about me!”

“They know about you, Clem. They’ve been staying with Nana and Papa for the last three days.” He whispered, looking off at the kitchen. “Showed up on their front porch Thursday night asking if they were Adelisa’s parents and then spent the last few days getting to know them. They asked about you and Nana told them you lived here and they almost weren’t going to come, but you know how Nana is. So, she convinced them and well…I guess they came.”

She sighed in disbelief, looking off towards the kitchen where she could hear Fudge’s nails against the tiling, followed by what was the familiar thumping of her tail against a cabinet. She must be getting head rubs from either Hayden or Emily. “Tys…”

“You saw them Clem. I can guarantee you that they’re just as nervous as you are about this,” Tyson said, reaching down and holding her hand. “Let’s just make some lunch and get to know them, okay? They’re apparently leaving on Friday, so they’ll only be around for four more days. If it turns out that you don’t like them? You never have to talk to them again. But if you do? Then that’s two more people you can add to your family– a brother and a sister, so now you can stop hogging mine.”

Clementine rolled her eyes and nudged his arm. “You’re annoying.”

“No I’m not, you love me.” Tyson smiled, leaning down and kissing her. “Now come on, let me see if I can impress my possible future brother and sister-in-law with my cooking prowess.”

“You literally said you were going to make grilled cheese, Tys.” Clementine replied.

“I might step up my game now,” he replied, draping an arm over her shoulder and pulling her into his side. “Come on, don’t be nervous I’m right here with you, okay?”

She nodded, wrapping her arm around his waist and leaned into his side. She took a deep breath and exhaled, looking towards the kitchen. “Okay.”

Naturally, the beginning of lunch was extremely tense and awkward. Tyson, bless his soul, tried his very best to try and alleviate all of the tension by filling out any of the small, awkward silences by asking questions about Emily and Hayden’s home life, school, or by telling them a little bit about him and Clem’s past and current present. In the middle of eating the grilled cheese sandwiches, Nana, Laura and Kacey had arrived and thankfully, their arrival took a little bit of the awkwardness out of the room.

So instead of Tyson just talking, it turned into Kacey, Laura, Tyson and Nana talking. The three siblings would chime in every now and then, but it was still, obviously a little awkward. Clementine noticed though, just how relaxed that Emily and Hayden had seemed around Nana and she remembered that she wasn’t the only one in the situation who had missed out on their entire existence. Sure, while she had missed out on knowing her half-siblings– which it turns out she has another one, a six year old brother named Tristan, who according to Emily and Hayden based on the pictures that Nana and Papa had shown them, looks just like Clementine did, only with the green eyes that their father had– Nana and Papa had missed out on three additional grandchildren.

Three grandchildren that could have received the same love, attention and happy memories that Clementine had made with the two of them in her life. She wondered how Nana and Papa were so easily to warm up to the two of them. Granted they were their grandchildren and Clementine knew that no matter what, they’d love their grandchildren. But they too had been deprived of a relationship with them because of their own daughter’s actions. How could they just not think about that even sitting in the same room as them?

Funny enough though, once the conversation really started flowing after the three new guests had gotten there, Clementine too found herself starting to open up more and so did Emily and Hayden. She found out that her and Emily actually had a birthmark in the same exact place– on the right side of their ribs– and that just like she was, Hayden was better at English than he was at math and science. That she and Emily both preferred Christmas to Halloween, though they loved Hocus Pocus. She and Hayden loved to ride roller coasters– unless they were the lap bars…they both hated those.

It amazed her the more that she talked and listened to them, that she found the small things in common that they had despite never meeting or speaking until today. And as the hours ticked by, she felt herself begin to understand that the tension and uncertain feelings she had towards them, only turned out to be anger and confusion towards Adelisa.

After lunch, the whole group went back upstairs into the nursery, Hayden helping Tyson finish putting together the crib, while Nana, Laura, Kacey and Emily helped Clementine put together the picture frames, as well as hang the wall decorations they’d already bought, along with finish organizing the closet since Kacey and Laura had brought more diapers and clothes because “we stopped at the store and couldn’t resist all of the cute clothes.”

By the time dinner had rolled around, the nursery was basically set up, aside from the rocking chair that needed to be moved into the room from downstairs, but Hayden offered to carry it up the stairs and once he did that– the nursery was all complete. Tyson offered to order everyone pizza for dinner and everyone moved downstairs except for Clementine who had made a short trip into their bedroom to go to the bathroom. When she was done, she made her way back out of the bedroom and ready to head towards the stairs, but she decided to stop by the nursery one last time.

Looking at the set up that Tyson, she and their friends and families had brought to life from her pinterest board was a surreal moment. In the moments that she had made the board, just jotting down ideas what she’d like to see in their future baby’s nursery, she for some reason, could never fathom actually seeing all the bits and pieces come to life. The light lilac painted walls were complimented by the offwhite furniture pieces throughout the nursery. The one piece of furniture that had stood out, was the old mahogany rocking chair that her Nana had gifted her when she and Tyson had come back for the summer.

It was the same rocking chair that she used to rock her own daughter in, and then on some nights when Clementine couldn’t sleep, she’d sit in the chair with her and hold her, rocking her to sleep even though she was five years old. A chair that had sat in her office, Clementine always remembering sitting in it herself as a child and watching her Nana sit and do her work, or sometimes, just watch her work on her art projects. She was fond of the chair and looked forward to rocking Bailey in it on those sleepless nights, or any of their children after if they decide to have more. And then even one day, passing it on.

There was no specific theme to their nursery, not really. It had a modern touch, along with a sort of dreamy and modern Disney theme. Tyson suggested that maybe they shouldn’t try to do a theme and just see what they find and pick it out because he said it would be less stressful…and he was right. It was extremely less stressful worrying about liking one decoration but realizing that it just didn’t fit in with the rest. Instead, they did try to match of course, but they just knew they wanted to make it a peaceful and happy place for whenever Bailey would start to sleep in her crib.

“It looks really good,” Clementine looked away from the fully furnished crib to see Emily standing in the doorway, slowly walking in. “She’s going to be one lucky kid.”

“Thank you,” Clementine nodded, resting her hand on her large bump and rubbing it softly as she laughed. “Though I doubt she’ll appreciate all of it…being a baby and all, you know?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Emily said, putting her hands in the back of her jean pockets. “I mean, yeah, she’ll probably love all of this stuff too…but I meant it about you and Tyson. You guys are going to be great parents, I can already tell.”

She tried not to let Emily see her be shocked, but she couldn’t help it. “Oh, well…thanks,” she said, turning towards her and nodding. “That really means a lot to hear that. It’s been one of my biggest worries since–”

“Since our mom is who she is?” Emily added, ever so blunt.

Clem nodded, sighing. “Yeah, exactly.”

“Sometimes I wonder if she ever would’ve told us about you if I hadn’t gone searching for my passport.” Emily walked over towards the rocking chair, resting her hand on the back of it. “There’s a picture of her holding you in this chair in your baby book…I recognized the chair the moment I saw it. Because I remember staring at every picture in the book wondering about you. What happened to you, if you were still alive…there were so many questions, you know?”

“Baby book?” Clementine asked, feeling unsure. “She has that?”

“Mhhm,” Emily nodded. “When I grabbed the box she kept our passports in, a second box fell down and your book and a bunch of pictures and stuff all fell out.” She walked back over to Clementine, taking her phone out of her pocket and tapping the screen before handing it over. “That’s how I found everything. Confronted her about it too and she was silent for the first time since well…I can remember.”

Clementine grabbed her phone and swiped through the pictures. Sure enough, Emily had taken pictures of pages in the baby book that looked to have been filled out through at least her first year, like most baby books were. Seeing as how she ended up in the custody of her grandparents, she couldn’t believe the pictures of a baby her, her mom and the man she’d only seen in a few pictures that Nana and Papa had, but she knew was her dad. Though they’d only met her father a handful of times, Nana and Papa never had anything bad to say about him and spoke of him as a polite, quiet young man who adored Clementine more than anything.

Growing up, she’d always wondered what life would have been like had her father not died. She used to dwell on the thoughts for a while, eventually making herself upset to the point of tears and would ask Nana and Papa why her father had to die or why Adelisa left her behind. But as she got older, she learned that there was no point in dwelling on the fact since it was nothing that could be changed. Still though, there was a big part of her that wished she’d gotten to know her father better. What parts of him that she inherited.

“What did she say?” Clementine asked, part of her wanting to know how Adelisa felt being confronted with Emily’s discovery. “If she said anything.”

“She tried to shut me down, but I wouldn’t let it go, you know? I mean what kind of parent keeps their children a secret? So I followed her through the house asking and we were…we were arguing about it which is how it got my dad’s attention the moment he walked into the house.”

Clementine could tell that Emily was starting to revert into her shell and she shook her head, placing her hand on her shoulder. “You really don’t have to— I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable by asking.”

“You didn’t, it’s just…I’m thinking about how Hayden and I were listening in on them while she was explaining and I…our dad rarely ever got mad at home, despite being a lawyer. But he,” she took a deep breath and exhaled. “He was really upset with her.”

Emily looked around the nursery, shaking her head before looking at Clementine. “He never even knew about you. Mom…she had told him back when they were dating that you had died in an accident with your dad. That that’s why she had relocated to Toronto…to start fresh. And then she went on saying how she left you with her parents and she only did it because she loved him and saw a future with him and I guess he had said he wasn’t sure about wanting kids yet.”

“But that’s the thing I just don’t understand, you know?” She said, crossing her arms. “Why didn’t she ever come back to get you once she knew that he wanted kids? Once they got married? I just- I can’t wrap my head around how she’s the PTA mom that I grew up with, always involved in our activities and read us bedtime stories…but at the same time she’s also the mom who dropped her five year old off in the middle of the night on a front porch in a snowstorm…and never looked back.”

It wasn’t hard to see that Emily was where Clementine had been years ago, when she was constantly battling with the thoughts of being able to wrap her mind around what Adelisa had done. When she was going through it, she had a whole small army of people that loved her around her– Tyson in particular was helpful in getting through the constant ‘why didn’t she want me?’ questions. And sure, maybe Emily and Hayden had their dad…hell, maybe they even had Adelisa to help them through it. But right now, they were on the complete opposite side of the country.

Her fingers were fidgeting by her side as she thought about what to do, but there was never any hesitation the moment the thought crossed her mind. She reached out, placing her hand on Emily’s shoulder, gaining her attention to see that she was clearly hurting from the whole situation. And then, she just stepped closer to her and hugged her. Admittedly, she was nervous that Emily would pull away or just stand there and not hug her back– in fact, she feared it. But instead of awkwardly accepting the hug or denying it…she hugged her back. She hugged her back harder than Clementine had expected. As if she was scared to let go.

Or as if she felt safe enough to.

“I’m sorry for what she did,” Emily sniffled,

“Don’t be,” Clementine spoke softly, rubbing small circles against Emily’s back. “I stopped letting what she did bother me years ago. 

“It just makes me so…so angry at what she took from all of us. All of those years…I just, I don’t know if I’ll ever get over it.”

It felt like she was hearing her younger self say the exact words to Tyson. Expressing to him just how angry and upset she was that Adelisa never came back for her and how she felt like she was going to spend the rest of her life harboring those feelings of resentment. But she made it through. Sure, there will always be parts of her that would never fully get over how her own mother abandoned her, but with the right support, those thoughts no longer plagued her mind and she no longer felt that anger every day of her life.

“You will. I promise you that one day you’ll wake up feeling a little less angry and hurt and then every day afterwards it’ll be the same until you’re not anymore. I’ve been in your very shoes, I know that frustration and anger. But I promise that it doesn’t last forever.”

Emily just nodded and hugged Clementine a little tighter, resting her head on her shoulder as the two of them stood there and kept the comforting embrace. It was strange to Clementine just how natural this felt– comforting Emily. All her life she’d wanted siblings, she’d even adopted Kacey as her own younger sister. Yet even though she’d only met Emily today, it felt like she was hugging and comforting someone she’s known for her entire life.

“Oh!” Emily gasped, sniffling as she pulled back out of the hug and looked down at Clementine’s bump. “I think she just kicked because I definitely felt that.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Clementine laughed, patting the side of her bump. “This thing gets in the way a lot of the time. But that might’ve been her, she’s been really active lately.”

“That’s okay,” she laughed, clearing her throat and wiping at her eyes. “Though maybe she’ll end up playing soccer instead of being interested in hockey, because that was quite a kick.”

“Well Tyson’s already got his heart set on teaching her how to skate, so she’ll at least learn that.” Clementine smiled, looking back up at Emily.

“We should probably get downstairs before they send a search party,” Emily laughed softly, nodding her head towards the door. “I’m getting a sense that Tyson’s the type.”

“Please, just two weeks ago he came rushing into the bathroom because he heard the bathtub draining and I didn’t call out to him for help out of the tub. It’s been pretty hard navigating with this big ole thing, but sometimes I’m able to push myself up and not fall over.”

They both laughed as Clementine turned the lights off in the nursery and they both walked out into the hallway, ready to go down the stairs as Emily started to take the first few steps. “Hey, Emily?”

“Hm?” She asked, stopping and looking over her shoulder.

“What you said about how she took away all of those years from us…just because we missed so many, doesn’t mean that we still can’t take advantage of the ones we have now and in the future.” Clementine said, swallowing the nervous knot in her throat. “You and Hayden are more than welcome to stay with Tyson and I when you visit, both here and in Minnesota. And when the time comes, if there’s ever a good time…I’d really be up to and like to meeting Tristan too. Bailey’s going to know about her aunt’s and uncles, and I want her to be able to meet you all one day.”

“I think that sounds great,” Emily nodded, a small smile on her face. “And I know it probably doesn’t mean much and I don’t want you to feel pressured…but our dad’s a good guy, he really is. And I think if you were ever up to it too, he’d probably want to meet you and apologize.”

Clementine pondered on the offer. She knew that at one point in time, she’d probably have to meet the hot shot lawyer that her mom ultimately ditched her for. If this opportunity were to have come up years ago, she would have immediately shot it down. But knowing that he was just as much of a victim in the lie Adelisa told had her feeling sympathy towards him.

“Okay, yeah,” Clementine nodded, starting to walk with him down the stairs. “I can’t promise it’ll be any soon, especially with Bailey coming within the next month. But whenever there’s a chance, if there’s a chance, sure. But–”

“No mom, I promise,” Emily said, shaking her head. “Don’t worry. And between you and me…even if you did want to meet up with her, I’m not all too confident that she’d show up. I think she’s too ashamed.”

“Geez, did you guys get lost?” Tyson asked, appearing at the end of the stairs. “Pizza’s gonna be here any minute and Em, Hayden’s out on the front porch on the phone with your dad and said to tell you to go out there.”

Emily nodded and jogged the rest of the way down the steps before turning left and heading out onto the front porch while Clementine carefully walked down the stairs, keeping a hand on the handrail and her bump at the same time before Tyson reached out for a hand to help her on the last two steps.

“You guys were up there for a while, did you get stuck in the bathroom?” Tyson asked, nodding his head up towards the top of the stairs.

“No, we were just talking about our mom and how Emily found out about me.”

Tyson raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. “Oh? And how did that go?”

“Actually…really good,” Clementine laughed softly, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Obviously the passport search happened, but then a box fell and it was a box of pictures and other stuff Adelisa had kept, including my baby book. And apparently, she came clean about it to the lawyer–”

“Thomas?”

“Mhhm, and we talked about maybe one day us getting to meet Tristan…even Thomas. She said Adelisa would probably be too ashamed to…”

“And are you disappointed about it?” Tyson asked, trying to gauge her reaction.

Clementine shrugged, looking at him. “I’m not sure. I think I’m indifferent about it. It won’t hurt my feelings anymore if she doesn’t want to and it’s not something I need to do, you know?” She took a deep breath and sighed. “I did tell her that she and Hayden are more than welcome to stay with us if they decide to visit here or Minnesota. And that I’d really like for Bailey to know them, you know?”

Tyson nodded, holding her as close to him as he could without pressing against her bump. “I think that would be great,” he said, kissing the top of her head before looking out towards the door. “They’re really cool kids, just from what we’ve seen.”

“Yeah, they are,” Clementine nodded, resting her head down against his chest.

“Hey Clement– um…Clem?” Hayden said, poking his head past the screen door and looking at her and Tyson and looking extremely nervous. “My dad’s on the phone, if you want– I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to–”

Clementine looked up at Tyson who shrugged and gave her a ‘why not?’ look. She leaned up and kissed him before removing her arms from around his waist and turning towards the front door. “Yeah, count me in.”

“That’s okay I under– wait, what?” Hayden’s eyes widened and then he smiled before opening the door the rest of the way for her to walk through. “Okay, yeah, come on.”

Tyson reached out and grabbed her hand, giving her a smile and a supportive squeeze. “I love you.”

She smiled and squeezed his hand back. “I love you too.”

Labor

They’d heard all of the stories– Tyson was born two weeks early, Clementine born right on time. They knew that with this being their first pregnancy, that the odds of Bailey making an appearance before her due date was possible…and it was also possible that their due date would come and go and still– no baby.

Which is exactly where they were at.

It was July 1st and Clementine was sitting three days past her 40 week mark and it was driving her absolutely wild. Partially because she and Tyson just wanted their daughter to be here so they could hold her and love her and just begin their life together as a family of three. But for most of it, she was just tired of being pregnant. Her boobs were constantly aching, she couldn’t get more than 20 minutes of solid sleep before her back would ache or she’d have to get up to pee. Tyson has to shave her legs for her since she couldn’t reach them even if she had the strength to bend over. Hell, she couldn’t even remember what her own feet looked like– but at least Kacey was nice enough to give her a pedicure when she told her that Tyson had offered.

“No offense, Ty– but we’ve seen your art skills. You can’t color inside the lines, I doubt you’d be able to paint her toes without making a mess.”

All week she’d been feeling some irregular contractions and as of yesterday afternoon, Dr. Warren, her new OBGYN, confirmed that she was in early labor and that she’d in fact lost her mucus plug. However, she was only two centimeters dilated and there was really nothing to do but wait until her contractions got more persistent and of course, for her water to break. While it was great news that it meant Bailey was on her way, it was still not what either of them wanted to here. At this point, everything just felt like a waiting game at this point, which wasn’t all that great because Clementine and Tyson weren’t the most patient people.

So last night was another night of not the best sleep, constant groaning and adjusting with her pregnancy pillow. A few times she’d accidentally nudged Fudge and woke her up in her search to find comfort. And the bathroom trips…for a split moment she’d actually considered just setting up a sleeping space in the bathroom and sleeping in there. It would mean less steps and easy access. Tyson shut the idea down when he said she could barely get herself up off of the couch, so maybe sleeping on the bathroom floor wasn’t the best idea.

Today felt more like yesterday, though her contractions felt a little stronger and more frequent. But not frequent enough for her to totally worry. Based on all of the books she’d read, by the time that she reaches active labor, she would be six centimeters dilated. Labor seems to progress slowly in first time pregnancies, so she knew that those four centimeters between six and ten would take longer for her body to go through. Maybe it was her way of trying to calm herself down at the mere thought of how by tomorrow she could be giving birth and they would be holding their daughter in their arms.

“Hmmm, okay so there’s seven ways to induce labor,” Tyson read, walking slowly beside her, his phone in his left hand while Fudge’s leash was in his right. “First is exercise–”

“Which I’ve been doing for the last three days, not to mention the days leading up to 40 weeks,” Clementine replied, putting her hands in her sweatshirt pockets.

“Second is sex,” he smiled, looking at her and wiggling his eyebrows up and down. “I like option two.”

“Yeah no, that’s not happening either. You’re not sticking anything up there– not for at least a few months. Plus I look and feel like a walrus, I’m hot enough for sex.”

“I think you were hot before and hot now,” he smiled, leaning in towards her. “So?”

“So no sex,” Clementine smiled, leaning over hte rest of the way and kissing him before waving him off. “Next option.”

“Nipple Stimu–”

“Nope.”

“Acupunct–”

“Hell no,” Clementine said, looking at him. “I don’t even like getting my flu shot, Tyson. Why would I voluntarily have an acupuncturist poke me with needles and lay there? What kind of list are you looking at?”

Tyson turned his phone around, showing her the screen. “Healthline?” He sighed and brought the phone back towards him. “Well, your last three options are acupressure, drink castor oil and eating dates. All of which I know you’re not going to want to do, so I’ll keep looking.”

“At this rate, I think I’m going to have to be induced and I’m not looking forward to that at all,” she pouted, resting her hands on her lower back. “I’m more looking forward to my epidural than I am an induction and trust me, I’ve googled that needle and it’s scary.”

“You’ll be fine, Clem,” he laughed, standing closer to her and lightly bumping into her. “But, this site right here says that exercise and sex might actually be your best options. So…”

“Soooo,” she mimicked, leaning in towards him with a smile. “No. Sex is off the table, so exercise it is.” She leaned back and took a deep breath, exhaling. “Even though it’s done absolutely nothing.”

“Maybe walking isn’t doing anything, so when we get home why don’t you try bouncing on that medicine ball my mom got you?” Tyson asked, scrolling through his phone.

“I guess,” she sighed, leaning back to stretch her back. “I think I’m just tired of being pregnant and having this bowling ball of a baby physically in my body, you know? It’s painful.”

“I offered to buy you a top package at the spa as your push present,” he said, taking a quick glimpse at her. “It’s still on the table.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Tyson, you already got me maternity pajamas for the hospital and after. Plus you got me a new kindle. Really, I don’t need anymore.”

Tyson just rolled his eyes and smiled. “You’re going to be pushing an almost eight and a half pound baby out of your body, Clem. So suck it up, I’m giving you all of the push presents I see fit.”

This time, Clementine rolled her eyes, ready to say something when she felt a small contraction start, bringing her to a stop. “Tys, stop for a second,” she said, breathing through the pain.

“Another one?” He asked, looking up at his phone to see her nod before nodding back down at his phone. “Clem, I’m looking at all of the ways that could be best to at least try and get your water to break naturally, and this article says the top one is nipple stimulation because of oxytocin or something.”

“I don’t–”

“I know you said you didn’t want to do it, but maybe it’s worth considering besides just exercise? I mean, I know we’ll both enjoy it and–”

“No, Tyson. I wasn’t going to say I don’t want to do it,” she looked up from the sidewalk where she now stood in a wet puddle, the inner thighs of her maternity workout leggings soaked from the unexpected action of her water breaking. “We don’t need to do it…my water just broke.”

“What?” He asked, snapping his head up from his phone and looking at her with wide eyes. “When?”

“Um…now, I guess? I just– I mean it just happened,” she said, looking back down at her feet. “Honestly I thought I was about to pee my pants but nope…water breaking.”

Tyson looked down, scrunching his face as he tugged on the lease. “Fudge no, no sniffing. Bad girl, get away from that,” he said, nudging Fudge away from the puddle as she moved in closer. And like all of a sudden it dawned on him what that meant, he looked back at Clementine in shock. “We need to go to the hospital.”

“We need to walk back first,” she said, turning around to make their way back down to the house.

“No, you stay here! I’ll take Fudge home, toss your bag in the car and then pick you up and–”

“I’m not going to the hospital in soaked pants Tyson,” Clemetine said, metaphorically putting her foot down as she kept walking straight ahead. “Besides, we’re not even half a block away, we’ll be fine. Now come on, you call everyone and I’ll call Dr. Warren and tell her what happened.”

It was organized, rushed chaos as they juggled phone calls, Clementine changing clothes and calling Dr. Warren while Tyson called their families to let them know that they were getting ready to head to the hospital and he’d update them once they got there. Kacey had rushed over from down the road to watch Fudge for them so they wouldn’t have to pack up her stuff to drop her off with anyone, and then they packed up Tyson’s car and made their way to the hospital. They were both nervous, but Clementine was trying her best to calm herself down and recall what she’s read in books and taught in classes and what she’s learned from her friends' experience, as well as Nana and Laura. Tyson on the other hand, was panicking and unable to hide it. This proved true when he was filling out the paperwork as they checked in and led them to their room and he had to ask the nurse for a new form because he’d accidentally written his own name on the line where hers was to go– seeing as she was the patient.

Needless to say, once Caroline was hooked up and checked on by nurses and everything was settling down, she told Tyson to sit down in the chair and take a breath. “I’m the one birthing a human here and you’re so pale you look like you’re about to be sick.”

He got better as the time went by…and at times, it felt like it went by extremely slow. Between the contractions and the nurses coming in and out of their room to check and see just where Clementine was at in her labor…which seemed to be progressing slowly. The time was spent rotating between walking around their room, which turned into walking down the halls to try and take her mind off of the pain from the contractions, which were getting stronger. And when it became too much for her to be able to walk around, she was back to staying in the room, close to the hospital bed to be monitored in case Dr. Warren came in and told them it was go time.

Every hour Tyson would update their families on how far along Clementine was and whether or not it was time for her to start pushing. And every hour from the moment they came into the hospital, he’d give them the same news– “slowly progressing, I’ll let you know when we get closer.” They found ways to pass the time of course, watching movies, playing UNO (even though Tyson would try and cheat like he always did when they were kids) and whenever she got the chance, Clementine would try and get a little bit of sleep to rest and prepare for when the time came that she’d need to start actively pushing.

On hour seven, making it 4pm that same afternoon, a nurse came into the room to do another check and then with a smile had told them the news they’d been waiting hours to hear– that she was fully dilated and  it was time to finally start pushing. Dr. Warren came into the room shortly after, as well as the rest of the labor and delivery team, assuring Tyson and Clementine that this was a time to be excited for and that the team was there to make it all go as smoothly as possible before they transferred them out of their booked room and into a labor and delivery room.

And that helped both of their nerves a little bit, but not much. Because in the end, this was something that they’d never experienced before and no amount of books, videos or friendly advice, could fully get rid of that anxiety they felt about how close they were to welcoming their daughter into their lives and into this world.

However, even after it was time to start pushing, things weren’t smooth sailing. Clementine felt supported with both the staff and of course Tyson by her side, Dr. Warren joining in the efforts in trying to coach her through the pushing, but pushing for a near two hours would wear anyone down, even someone who’d been through labor before– and for Clementine, it was starting to drain her more than anything. They changed breathing techniques, two nurses and Tyson helped move her both onto her side and even onto her hands and knees to switch positions to try and help before she asked to be put back down onto her back– but nothing was working.

“I can’t,” Clementine whined, resting her head down against the pillow and shaking her head. “Why isn’t she coming out? Is something wrong?”

“No, Clementine, everything’s fine,” Dr. Warren said, looking over the gown. “Sometimes this stage can take up to three hours, even for those who’ve had a baby or two. It’s just the progression.”

“But she’s okay, right?” Tyson asked, his right hand brushing the hair back off of Clementine’s forehead. “They’re both okay?”

“Yes, they’re both okay, both of their vitals are very good right now. And as long as they keep trending that way, we’ll go ahead and stick with your original plan of a vaginal birth.” Dr. Warren looked between the both of them, nodding slightly. “However, if we surpass the 18 hour mark and you’re still pushing, we might have to consider doing a c-section.”

Clementine squeezed Tyson’s hand she’d been holding and looked at him with wide eyes, starting to feel herself panic as she looked back at Dr. Warren and shook her head. “I didn’t research that, we didn’t– that’s not–”

“Clementine, I need you to try and calm your breathing, okay?” Dr. Warren said, looking at Tyson. “We’ve still got a long way to go before we hit the 18 hour mark, but I’m just informing you that it’s a possibility down the line, okay?”

Tyson reached over and adjusted the oxygen mask that Clementine had tugged down her chin, putting it back over her nose and mouth. “You need to keep that on and just breathe with me, okay?” He said, taking deep slow breaths and maintaining his eye contact. “Good, that’s good. Everything’s gong to be fine, Clem, I promise.” He had a smile on his face, but Clementine could see the worry in his eyes.

She tried to keep a countdown in her head as the time went by and she kept pushing whenever she was instructed to– but there was still that sliver of a doubt in her mind that their original birth plan was gong to be thrown out of the window for the new plan of a c-section. Which Tyson, bless his heart, tried to alleivate the stress by saying, “well, now we know that she’s already got your stubbornness.”

It was at least another hour of pushing and contractions of getting nowhere, before they started to near the end of hour eight, when something just felt different. Her contractions felt stronger and more frequent, and after every push, when Tyson would say words of support or brush her hair out of her face as she tried to focus on her breathing, she felt lighter.

“Clementine, I think we’re getting somewhere now,” Dr. Warren said, looking up from the sheet and nodding. “Go ahead and give me another push and we might just be able to see your baby’s head.”

Clementine nodded and tried to put to action what all of her lamaze classes had taught her. To focus her weight down, tuck her chin into her chest and take a deep breath as she pushed. “Ouch, shit,” Tyson said, quickly covering up his painful complaint with a cough. “Sorry, you’re doing great, just uh…keep squeezing my hand, mhhm.”

“You’re doing great, Clementine,” Nurse Taylor, who was holding onto Clementine’s right leg said, gently patting her knee. “Just keep pushing, you’ve got five seconds left.”

Those five seconds felt like a lifetime and when she heard Tyson countdown to zero, she let her body rest against her hospital bed, releasing her tight grip on his hand. “Sorry,” she frowned, looking at him as he took his hand back and quickly rubbed it.

“No, you’re fine, I promise,” he said, stretching his fingers before reaching back down and holding her hand, bringing it up to his mouth and kissing the back of it. “You could break it for all I care, as long as it helps you.”

“Okay Clementine, I can see the top of her head!” Dr. Warren said, sounding excited as she looked at Clementine with a smile. “If you can give me one big push, we just might be able to get her head out and then you’ll be holding your baby girl. Are you ready to do this?”

Clementine nodded, sitting herself up just slightly. “Hell yeah.”

Tyson laughed and leaned down, kissing the top of her head as he squeezed her hand. “That’s my girl, now come on Clem, you’ve got this.”

“Go ahead and push now,” Dr. Warren said, nodding her head before keeping her attention below the sheet line.

Maybe it was the fact that Dr. Warren had said she could only have to push two more times, but the countdown in this push felt like a lifetime as Clementine tried to put her very best effort into getting their daughter out of her body. Her left hand was squeezing Tysons and her right hand was gripping onto the sheets on her hospital bed as she shut her eyes, trying to gain control of her breathing.

“Almost there, Clementine, her head’s almost out!”

Tyson took the opportunity to lean down towards the end of the sheet, finding himself curious as to what was happening down there– even though he’d been advised by most of his friends and even online forums that there was a possibility that the sight would make him a little queasy and possibly need a chair. Curiosity killed the cat and he couldn’t help but let his eyes go wide as he saw exactly what Dr. Warren was just about to announce.

“Holy shit, Clem her head’s out!” He said, trying not to grimace in pain at the scene. “You should see this.”

“Kind of feeling it instead, Tyson,” Clementine huffed, squeezing his hand tighter, taking another deep breath and pushing at the guidance of nurse Taylor.

His jaw dropped as he saw their daughter basically slip into Dr. Warren’s hands and he realized that all of the forums were right– he definitely might need a chair, because he just saw their daughter be born into the world and just the plain idea of that was a doozy. “She’s here,” he spoke softly, looking back at Clementine with a beaming smile. “You did it, look at her!”

In an instant, all of the nurses went into action, one placing Bailey on Clementine’s chest as others helped Dr. Warren with whatever was happening beneath the blanket, not that Tyson wanted to ask or knew what it was. He returned back to Clementine’s side, letting go of her leg as he brushed back the hair out of her face once more and bent down, kissing her.

He never thought that the sound of a baby’s cry could bring him to tears, but the moment after the nurses started to suction fluid from her mouth and in turn it caused Bailey to cry– hearing the gurgling, high pitched and breathy cry…he had tears in his eyes.

“Dad, would you like to cut the cord?” Dr. Warren asked, taking his attention away from Clementine.

He nodded, letting go of Clem’s hand for the few seconds that it took for them to place a pair of funky looking scissors into his hand and show him where to cut the clamped cord. And once it was done, he was right there back at Clem’s side, looking at the two girls in his life that were amongst the top few that meant the most of him.

They were his girls, the two he knew he’d love the most for the rest of their lives.

There was so much going on around her, yet all Clementine could focus on what the newborn lying on her chest. The nurses were working around her hospital gown so Bailey could be placed more on her chest, while simulatenously trying their best to warm her up. Tyson had placed a hand on top of the hospital blanket the nurses draped over their newborn and he was kissing Clementine’s head and brushing her hair back as they both looked at their beautiful daughter, who had only cried once– the moment she was born– and had otherwise since been peacefully laying against Clementine’s chest.

It was when Tyson stood up from leaning over Clementine that she felt like maybe something was off. She blinked and blinked, wondering if maybe her eyes were just dry, but when she looked up to try and tell Tyson– her head felt heavy to move.

“Tyson,” she said, barely brushing the oxygen mask up off of her face and over her forehead as she kept her left hand on top of Bailey as well. “Tyson, take her.”

“What?” He asked, looking down at her with furrowed brows, too caught up in the excitement to have heard her the first time.

“Take,” Clementine nodded her head down towards Bailey as she tried to brush the oxygen mask back down her face, feeling her heart begin to race. “Take her.”

Alarms filled the room as a nurse brushed by Tyson and gently nudged him away from the side of her hospital bed, her co-worker on the other side of Clementine, making moves that she couldn’t focus on, but knew were happening since she felt someone slide the oxygen mask over her nose and mouth. “Keep breathing, Clementine, take deep breaths, okay?”

“What’s going on?” She heard Tyson ask, the fear in his voice evident. ““What’s happening? What’s wrong with her?”

“Tyson, her pressure’s dropping, but we’re doing everything we can right now,” Dr. Warren spoke matter of factly. “And I need you to follow nurse Nora here over towards the heating lamp and stay with your daughter while we take care of Clementine, okay?”

“Please, just– she’s going to be okay, right? She has to be okay,” Tyson paused, exhaling heavily. “Please…”

“We’ll do everything we can, sir. Now just follow me,” a nurse said, which must have been nurse Nora because while she was still fighting to keep her eyes open, Clementine a nurse carefully wrap the blanket over a now crying Bailey before lifting her off of her chest and walking away.

The sound of their daughters cry and the blurred vision of the yellow hospital blanket being the last thing Clementine saw before everything went dark.

She heard her breathing and Tyson talking before anything else. Her vision was still dark and as her hearing started to focus and she felt herself start to wake up, she realized that her eyes were closed. It took multiple blinks before she could even get her eyes to open just barely, her eyelids still felt a little heavy with each blink. But eventually, she was able to get them open and her vision to clear up to see that she was in her hospital room– the recovery room that they’d been in before she got wheeled off into labor and delivery.

And once the confusion started to pass, the panic set in. Why was she back in here? Where was Bailey? What happened? Did something go wrong? She moved her arms by her side and tried to push herself up in the hospital bed, immediately feeling her entire bottom half ache.

“Hold on mom, let me call you back, I think she’s waking up,” Tyson said, rushing over to her right bedside. “Hey, don’t try to move too much, what do you need?”

“Water,” she replied, clearing her throat and stopping her attempt at sitting herself up.

Tyson nodded and grabbed the cup and pitcher of water that was by her bedside, pouring her a cup of water before handing it to her. “Don’t drink too fast, you’ll make yourself sick.”

She rubbed her eyes as she slowly took a sip of her water, trying her best to keep blinking to keep her eyes from continuing to get dry. She looked up at Tyson as she brought her cup back down from her mouth, seeing the worried expression on his face. “Tys, what happened?”

“What do you remember?” He asked, reaching out and tucking some of her hair behind her ear.

“Um…” Clementine squinted her eyes, trying to figure out what she remembered last before sighing and shaking her head. “I remember feeling a little lightheaded, hearing you and then seeing a nurse take Bailey and then everything went dark.”

At the mere mention of their daughter, it was like she was jolted awake and she sat up quickly, looking around the room. “Bailey, where’s bailey?” She asked, looking at Tyson with worried eyes. “Is she okay? Was something wrong?”

“She’s okay, perfect even,” Tyson smiled softly, nodding his head before turning around and walking over towards the wall that was next to the couch beneath the window. He bent down just partially before standing back up and turning around, walking over to Clementine holding a bundled up yellow blanket. “Though I do have some bad news…”

“Wha–”

“My mom was right,” he carefully placed the sleeping newborn into Clementine’s arms and carefully pulled off the small pink hat that was on her head. “She’s got mine and Kacey’s blonde hair.”

Clementine reached out and softly hit his arm, never taking her eyes off of their daughter. “That wasn’t funny, I thought something was wrong with her.”

“You’re right, that was horribly timed,” he sighed, rolling a wheeled stool over to the side of the bed and sitting down, leaning against the hospital bed. “But don’t worry Clem, she’s perfect. I mean, I didn’t want to put her in her outfit yet, because I wanted you to see it, you know, so maybe her outfit isn’t perfect yet and I’m sure she’s cold…but otherwise Clem, she’s just perfect. All 8 pounds and 19 inches of her.”

She looked back down at Bailey and brushed her right thumb against Bailey’s plump cheeks, feeling the warmth of her skin against her own. She had quite a bit of hair, and of course, just like Laura had said it probably would be– it was blonde, though Clementine could see some twinges of brown in there. She had the same long, dark and thick eyelashes that Clementine and Tyson both had. Her eyes were closed, but it looked like she might have Tyson’s eye shape and lips, and it turns out he was right all those months ago– she did have Clementine’s nose. But Clementine was right too, because she had the same plump and pink cheeks that both Tyson and Kacey had when they were kids.

“Low blood sugar,” Tyson spoke, holding onto the pink hat in his fist. “You had low blood sugar, which dropped your pressure and then with the blood loss…it all just added up and you passed out. Scared the shit out of me too,” he had a hand on Clementine’s arm, softly brushing his thumb against it. “Everything went from sort of relaxed to everyone was suddenly rushing around the room and I just thought…”

Clementine could see his eyes were starting to water as he looked down at Bailey and she carefully move the arm he’d been resting his hand on top of and lifted it up, cupping the side of his face and brushing her thumb against his beard, trying to get his attention. “Tys I’m okay,” she whispered, carefully turning his chin towards her. “I’m okay, she’s okay…you can’t get rid of me that easily. Someone’s got to make sure Bailey here knows how to take care of her curls.”

Tyson laughed, rolling his eyes. “You don’t know she’ll have my curls.”

Her face deadpanned and she nodded down at the sleeping baby. “She’s basically your clone, Tys. Aside from my nose, she’s your twin. I spent nine months growing her and haven’t been able to see my toes the last three months, for her to look just like you.” She joked, smiling soon after. “Trust me, she’ll have your curls.”

He laughed again, looking down at Bailey before looking back at Clementine with the same worried look. “No more scaring me like that, got it?”

“Got it,” she nodded, moving her hand down the side of his neck and softly scratching his skin before moving it to the nape of his neck, running her fingers through his soft curls. “Now kiss me, please.”

“More than happy to,” he smiled, leaning in and closing the space between them with a kiss as he brought his hand that was holding Bailey’s little pink hat, up to her face and cradling the side of it. “You did so good, Clem,” he whispered, pulling back from their kiss just barely. “You’re a rockstar.”

“Mmm, I had the best support with me,” she smiled, kissing him again.

The sound of the tiniest gurgle pulled them both away from each other and brought their attention down to the previously sleeping baby wrapped in her yellow blanket. Bailey was squirming just slightly and pursing her lips, mouthing at something that wasn’t there as her eyes started to blink slowly before eventually she was opening them.

“Oh she’s so your twin, Tys. She’s got your eye shape,” Clementine laughed, reaching down and brushing her hand over Bailey’s soft blonde hair. “Hi Bailey, I’m your mommy.”

“I think she might be hungry,” Tyson said, sitting up and pressing the nurse call button. “They said that when she makes those cute faces, she’s either hungry or pooping.”

“Has she eaten yet?” Clementine asked, frowning slightly. “Did I miss it?”

“Mhhm, she hasn’t really shown any signs of being hungry,” he said, coming back next to her. “You’ve only been out for 20 minutes, Clem. So I called and updated everyone and Bails and I got some daddy daughter time while we waited for mommy to wake up, didn’t we Bails?” He cooed, bending down and kissing the newborn's head.

“Clementine, I’m glad to see you awake!” Dr. Warren said, walking into the room with an unfamiliar face behind her. “How are you feeling?”

“A little tired, and I have a slight headache,” Clementine said, lightly rocking Bailey in her arms. “But other than that I feel good.”

“That’s good, I’m very glad to hear,” Dr. Warren smiled, walking around and over to the machine that was taking her vitals. “I’m sure Tyson here told you, but you did lose consciousness shortly after birth. We’ve run some tests and ruled out anything that was serious, so I don’t want you to worry. Your blood sugar was low, which dropped your blood pressure and that combined with the blood loss in the delivery, you to lose consciousness. We did deliver the placenta and we’re going to have you stay here for an additional two days, just so we can keep an eye on you to make sure that the fainting was a one time thing.”

“Thank you so much, Dr. Warren,” Clementine said, looking up from Bailey and at her. “Really, thank you for helping deliver her and taking care of me.”

“It’s what I come to work for,” Dr. Warren smiled, nodding her head. “Now, I do recommend that you get something to eat! You guys can order in, have someone drop it off for you or you can check out the cafeteria downstairs, but I want you to eat something filling to get that blood sugar back up.”

“Yes ma’am, my mom is dropping off some food soon. She should be here in ten minutes,” Tyson nodded, taking his phone out of his pocket.

“I’ll be around sometime later just to check on you again to see if there’s any complications, just routine so don’t worry. But for right now,” Dr. Warren motioned towards the woman who’d come into the room with her. “This is Dr. Kara, she’s a lactation specialist and will be giving you some pointers on breastfeeding if that’s something you’re interested in.”

“Thank you again, Dr. Warren,” Clementine nodded as Dr. Warren walked out of the room and Dr. Kara came up to the left of her bed. “Hi Dr. Kara, thanks for helping me.”

“Of course and congratulations on your new addition,” she smiled, placing down a small stack of pamphlets on Clementine’s bedside table. “Now I understand you had a little bit of a bump there after delivery, so I can always come back if you’re not feeling up to it. If you are, I’m more than willing to help you walk through the process of breastfeeding. If you’re not, I can always come back and I brought some pamphlets for you to read and gain some insight on the process.”

“I’m feeling okay,” Clementine nodded, holding Bailey close to her. “I think I’m up to learn right now, if that’s okay.”

“That’s great,” Dr. Kara smiled. “Now let’s go ahead and try to get this little cutie fed.”

Their first night as a family of three went by pretty great. Aside from the frequent nurse visits throughout the night to check on both Clementine and Bailey, their night was filled with tons of cuddles, diaper changes and feedings. When Clementne was fast asleep, Tyson took that time to hold and cuddle with Bailey, and soaking up all the time that he could before their families came to visit tomorrow- where he knew that they would give their grandparents as much time to hold the first great-grandchild, that they wanted. They’d both taken some pictures, but hadn’t sent them off or posted any, wanting their families to see Bailey in person first, versus in a picture.

The next morning, they tried to figure out what their schedules would look like every morning when trying to maintain a routine for themselves and Bailey included. A nurse had helped Clementine shower and get changed while Tyson carefully changed Bailey’s dirty diaper and then put her into a sunflower newborn footie pajama set that came complete with a little knit bow headband as well. It was an outfit that Kacey had bought and one that Bailey hadn’t exploded a diaper in yet– seeing as the one time Tyson didn’t double check to make sure the diaper was on tight enough, was the one time that Bailey had blown it out.

It was most definitely a learning experience for them both, one that every diaper change since, had them double checking to make sure it was on good enough before they’d dress her up again.

Now showered and dressed, they just waited in their recovery room for a text from their families that they’d arrived at the hospital. Clementine was dressed in the pajama set and robe Tyson had gifted her as one of her push presents. And despite her telling him he didn’t have to, while they waited, Tyson had announced that he’d gotten her two more push presents– one was a 14k white gold ring that had Bailey Frances engraved on it, a ring that he’d have to take in to get her birth date engraved on the inside. The other was a newborn and family photoshoot next week once they got settled in.

When he got a text from his mom that they were there, Tyson quickly kissed both Bailey and Clem goodbye, telling her that he’d be right back before he left the room to go pick them up from reception and leaving Clementine alone with Bailey for the first time.

She felt herself start to grow nervous, but not at the fact that she was now a mom or that she had a daughter– but a nervous sort of excitement that she was getting ready to introduce their tiny budle of joy to the people that loved them most. The ones that raised them and saw their friendship and relationship blossom from the very beginning. Most importantly, she was going to introduce their daughter to Nana and Papa– the two people who took her in at one of her most vulnerable and defensless moments, who loved her and raised her like she was their own daughter and who turned her into the woman she was today…and the kind of parent she hoped to be.

She heard the door to their room open and seconds later, the privacy curtain that closed around the door was pulled open, revealing Tyson and the rest of their anxiously waiting family. “Hi guys,” Clementine smiled as Tyson ushered them all into the room.

“How are you feeling?” Laura asked, walking over to the right side of her bed and giving her a side hug.

“Better, definitely much better,” Clementine nodded, accepting the hugs from her grandparents as well as Tyson’s and Kacey. “The staff has been looking after us pretty good, plus Tyson’s been like my own personal nurse too.”

“And food order boy,” Tyson laughed, standing at the end of the hospital bed. “We should be uber eats number one customers now.”

The smallest sound filled the short silence after Tyson was done speaking, bringing attention to the newborn lying in Clementine’s arms. Clementine smiled, adjusting the small headband that was on her head and looked at their families. “Everyone, this is Bailey,” she tilted her arms just slightly so everyone could get a view of the barely awake newborn. “Bailey, this is your family.”

“Oh my God, she looks just like Tyson,” Kacey said, coming around the side of the bed and leaning slightly. “Not the nose though, she’s definitely got your nose.”

“So?” Clementine smiled, looking at them all. “Who wants to hold her first?”

“Frances and Howard, why don’t you two go first,” Laura said, motioning towards them.

Tyson walked over to the side, bending down and carefully picking up Bailey so her Nana and Papa didn’t have to bend down to pick her up. “Alright, Bails, this is your Nana Frances and Papa Howard,” he spoke softly, turning around to face them and carefully handed Bailey off to Nana before sitting down just at the end of Clementine’s hospital bed with a smile.

“Oh she’s so cute,” Nana smiled, holding the bundled up newborn against her as Papa stood close to her, resting his hand towards the bottom of her blanket. “Well hi there, Bailey. I’m your Nana and this is your Papa and we are so excited to finally meet you.”

“And we love you very, very much,” Papa chimed in, nodding down at the newborn before clearing his throat and nonchalantly wiping at his right eye to try and wipe away the forming tears. He looked down at Clementine, who was herself quickly on her way to crying and bent down, kissing the top of her head and wrapping his arms around her as best as he could, giving her a hug. “You did a damn good job, Clem and we love you so much.”

“I love you too, Papa,” Clementine sniffled, burying her face into his shoulder as she tried to keep herself from breaking down into tears. “Thank you both for everything.”

He pulled back, kissing the top of her head once more as he smiled, staying close to her and speaking softly. “And we’d do it again without a single hesitation. You are the greatest thing to ever happen to us.”

Once he stood up, Nana handed Bailey off onto Papa where he got to hold her and talk to her for a few moments. And the pattern stayed the same. Papa passed her off onto Tyson’s grandma, then his grandpa, then Laura and then finally Kacey– who was the last one to get to hold her before she made her way back into Tyson’s arms.

There was so much love in the room, that it was hard to keep her tears from falling every other minute. It was all that Clementine had hoped for, a loving environment for their daughter from the very beginning– something stable and filled with people who only wanted the best for Bailey. And sitting in that room, taking pictures and having the walls filled with laughter and love, it was already that and so much more.

Bailey Frances Jost was possibly the most loved person in the room, but she was forsure…by far, the luckiest.

New Addition

Clementine never really understood the whole “time is a thief” saying. That’s what she read in all of the books, the forums, or hearsay from her friends and family– “time flies by, it’s a thief and you’re going to never know it’s happening until one day you do.” It just never really made sense to her, because for all purposes, time just seemed to be moving by very slow– dragging on if you will.

Until Bailey rolled over for the first time.

Suddenly, Bailey wasn’t the tiny 8 pound baby they brought home from the hospital, but was instead now a little over 12 pounds, her dark blue eyes were now starting to darken into what would most likely be the same shade of brown as Tysons and her hair was going on the same path Tyson’s had gone when he was a baby– staying blonde and straight.

She was starting to raise her head and chest during tummy time whenever she heard Tyson or Clementine talk, and if someone were playing with her and holding a toy she had any interest in (which most of those were Fudge’s toys), she would make grabby hands towards them. Tyson’s favorite thing to do was helping her stand up and getting her to bonce on her feet, often earning a giggle from her. She loved bath time, babbled the most whenever Fudge was around and absolutely loved it whenever anyone tickled her feet or her belly.

Going on four months with Bailey in their lives and having been back in Minnesota for almost two months, life by no means was easy. The season had officially started two weeks earlier, just five days after Bailey turned four months old. While they didn’t have their immediate family down in the states to help around the house, they did have their hockey family– all of them more than willing to help Clementine and Tyson adjust to life with a baby during the hockey season. It was a big group that was more like family that the two of them were extremely grateful for. Especially since Clementine was set to return back to work at the end of the month– her sub replacement making sure to add her into emails of what was going on at the school and keeping her in the loop of the students who would come to her office.

But until then, Clementine still had two more weeks left of staying at home with Bailey and Tyson to soak up all of the time she had left before she was set to go back to work, and Bailey would go to the rink with Tyson on days when he was home and if he was on a road trip, Clementine would drop her off with Danielle, who was more than willing to help them out until Bailey was old enough and Clementine and Tyson both were comfortable enough to drop her off at the childcare program at the school, where some of the other teachers had their kids enrolled.

“Tyson, her hat,” Clementine sighed, holding out the small beanie hat that had fallen onto the ground. “I don’t want her ears getting cold.”

“Oops, got it,” Tyson said, stopping just at the brink of the ice and stepping off to the side in the bench area, grabbing the hat. “We don’t need Bails to get cold red ears, do we Bails?” He cooed, entertaining Bailey as he put the small hat onto her head.

“There, now she’s all bundled up,” Clementine smiled, squeezing Bailey’s shoe covered foot as she leaned in and kissed her plump cheek. “And ready for her first ever skate with daddy, aren’t you?”

Bailey smiled and kicked her feet as she was snuggled up in the baby carrier wrap that Clementine was currently wearing. “Ga ga ga ga,” she babbled, wiggling in the carrier.

“I’m telling you Clem, she’s going to say dada first, she’s this close,” Tyson said, stepping out onto the ice and standing off to the side, holding out his hand to help her onto the ice. “Bailey’s a daddy’s girl, aren’t you Bailey?” He smiled, tickling the side of the carrier and getting her to smile.

“Maybe she’ll say mama,” Clementine teased, holding onto Tyson’s hand as she rested another hand on the back of Bailey’s carrier, keeping her close. “Ga ga can end up turning to mama, you never know.”

The two slowly skated around the rink as his teammates and their friends skated around them with their children and significant others. The first family skate of the season had Tyson exploding with excitement. Eagerly counting down the days until this moment, Tyson was eager to get to the arena today– Bailey all bundled up in some little leggings and a Minnesota Wild longsleeved dress that Clementine had foud on Etsy and bought for her, and a small white beanie to keep her head warm– that he struggled to even get her carseat out of the car.

“I’d always wanted to participate in one of these and yeah, you and I got to do one…” Tyson said, looking around the rink before looking at her and Bailey. “But it’s a little more special now that we’ve got Bails to share it with.”

“And then when she gets a little older, you’ll be able to help her skate around too,” Clementine smiled, nodding off at Jon Merrill’s youngest daughter, who up ahead was using one of the skating aids, along with Jon skating beside her. “And maybe by then, I’ll be sitting in the bench area with another little one and we’ll be cheering on Bailey and daddy.”

Tyson looked at her, a slightly hungry look in his eyes as he smiled. “Are you saying you want to start trying for baby number two?”

“Right now? Absolutely not,” Clementine snorted, shaking her head. “I want to soak up at least a year and a half, maybe two years of just Bailey time before we try for another baby.”

“Kacey and I are two years apart, well…just under two years, more like 23 months,” he said, letting go of her hand and wrapping her arm around his waist. “And you see how close Kacey and I are. Imagine Bails getting a best friend of her own.”

“I think it would drive Fudge absolutely crazy,” Clementine laughed, holding onto one of Bailey’s hands that had come out of the side of her carrier. “Bailey already wants to steal all of her toys, imagine if she had two babies trying to steal her toys!”

“Simple, we just buy Fudge more toys,” he shrugged, a playful smile on his face.

“Tyson–”

“I’m kidding Clem, I know what you’re saying,” he said, reaching over and adjusting Bailey’s hat. “And I agree, I’d like to get as much time with it being just Bailey for a while before we have another baby. Then we’ll think and talk about giving this little cutie a baby brother or sister, won’t be Bails? Would you want a sibling to boss around?”

Bailey was leaning her head back slightly against her carrier, smiling and poking her tongue out as she look at Tyson. “Ba!”

“Then it’s settled,” he nodded, leaning in and kissing her cheek. “We’re going to soak up all of the Bailey cuddles and kisses we can until then.”

Bailey just wiggled in her carrier, babbling as Clementine and Tyson doted all of the attention on her. And it was when Clementine needed to go to the bathroom that they stepped off of the ice and she transferred the carrier to Tyson, who by now was an expert at wearing it, considering there were days Clementine would come home to Tyson doing chores around the house wearing it with Bailey in it…or catch him on the tailend of a walk with Fudge, also wearing it.

“Say bye, Mama,” Tyson smiled, holding onto Bailey’s hand and waving it towards Clementine. “Daddy and I are going to go skate laps around the rink!”

“Bye sweetie,” Clementine laughed, waving at Bailey. “And Tyson–”

“I know, no racing or doing anything reckless,” he patted the carrier with a big smile. “Baby on board.”

Clementine nodded as Tyson skated away from the bench area, now fully wearing the baby carrier with Bailey inside of it. While she still needed to go to the bathroom, she waited right there in the bench area to watch Bailey and Tyson skate half a lap. She could see them clear across the ice, Tyson playing with her in the carrier and talking to her as he passed by some teammates, not hesitating to show off the cute four month old or stopping to let them talk and play with her. She couldn’t help but smile as she kept watching before Tyson and Bailey made their way back towards her, where Tyson had slowed down and started to wave towards her again before pointing in her direction for Bailey to look. And when Bailey did, though she was probably more focused on Tyson, she smiled and giggled as Tyson kept waving and saying “say hi to mama!”

The feeling that she had in her chest– the strong, overwhelming, warm feeling of love and happiness that she felt from watching the two of them together– watching Tyson go from a silly boy to a determined teenager, to a loving man and into a supportive, loving and doting husband a father, and watching Bailey experience the love of their family and friends, knowing she’d never have to worry about experiencing what Clementine did as a toddler…it was almost too much, but in a good way.

She would never get over watching their friends try to make Bailey giggle, or watch Bailey play with Fudge’s toys. How Fudge would sleep at the end of the bed still, but her face would now be facing the way that Bailey’s bedside bassinet was on. Watching Kacey try to entice Bailey into walking or making her giggle by teasing Tyson. Listening to Laura talk about how much Bailey reminded her of Tyson as a baby and giving Clementine advice on what to do in the case she turned out exactly like Tyson. Seeing his grandparents play peek-a-boo or sing songs to her. And watching her own grandparents rock her in their arms and read to her just like they had done for Clementine as a child.

There would never be a single moment or a single day where Clementine saw herself ever growing tired of watching the amount of love for their daughter, play out in their day to day life. And it was a feeling that often reminded her of her a quote from her all time favorite book, ‘The Truth About Forever’ by Sarah Dessen. It was when Macy, the main character had just kissed Wes, an artistic boy who had lost his mother to cancer and had rebelled after the fact, sending him to a reform school. The two had grown close and after back and forth and building friendship and feelings the whole book, in the end, it’s Wes, not her boyfriend, who she chooses to be with in the end. He had asked her a single question– what she would do if she could do anything in the world, and her reply was a simple kiss. But it was what followed that made this quote remind Clementine of that overwhelming feeling of love she felt.

“As for me, I was just trying to get it right, whatever that meant. But now I finally felt I was on my way. Everyone had a forever, but given a choice, this would be mine. The one that began in this moment, with Wes, in a kiss that took my breath away, then gave it back- leaving me astounded, amazed and most of all, alive.”

That’s how she felt looking at their little family, especially Bailey. She felt alive in the way that the infant would smile when she heard their voices or giggle at the lightest touch of her tummy. How she’d stick her tongue out as if she was trying to lick her lips. When she would fall asleep on their chests so effortlessly, and so willingly, because she knew she was safe with them. She’d been alive and living live all of this time, and every so often, something would happen that would remind her that she was so– getting into college, dating Tyson, getting accepted into an abroad for her masters, marrying Tyson, adopting Fudge, meeting her half-siblings…having Bailey.

Every moment between the time Adelisa had dropped her off onto Nana and Papa’s porch that cold August night and now, a comfortable October night in Minnesota where she was with her adoring husband and her beautiful and happy baby girl…all of it was a stepping stone, a part of her forever, a piece of her story that one day she would share with their children. A lesson that life had its ups and downs, but it was what you made of them that determined just how much of life you could make your own.

A reminder to be alive in both the big and small moments, because they all play a role in life.

A lesson to feel alive in what they do– to find the things and the people that they enjoy and love the most.

Sarah Dessen had said it best. Life could be long or short– but it was all in how you chose to live it. Because forever was always changing so it was important to make every second count. And that’s what she wanted for their children, for them to live their lives to the fullest, to laugh and cry and love to their fullest hearts desire.

Just like like the guidance counselor at her school had done for her, she was passing on the knowledge that she learned, that the circumstances they were dealt do not limit them to the endless possibilities that are out there for them to grab. And it was written on a sign on her wall just above her desk, big enough for everyone who walks through her office door to see almost immediately. A reminder of sorts.

“Life can be long or short, it all depends on how you choose to live it. It’s like forever, always changing. For any of us, forever could end in an hours, or a hundred years from now. You can never know for sure, so you’d better make every second count. What you have to decide is how you want your life to be. If your forever was ending tomorrow, is this how you’d want to have spend it.”

Her students had always asked her what her answer was to the question on her sign– “Mrs. Jost, what’s your answer?”

And Clementine’s answer was always the same. 

Yes.

Forever could end at any moment, and right now, she was content with how her’s had been. She was married to the love of her life and best friend, shared a beautiful daughter with the same man, she had a job that she loved, a beautiful home, a loving dog and was continuing to make changes in the lives of the students of the school that she worked at.

Her forever had started in late August 2003, when Nana and Papa had taken her in at just five-years-old, lonely, cold and starting to forget what the love of a mother had been. And in the 20 years since, she had experienced parental love, the love of her friends, family and the special love of a man who she knew would do anything for her. And there was more of forever that she had to go, had to live and experience, but all that mattered to her now was that she would take whatever forever had to give, just as long as she had Tyson, Bailey and Fudge by her side.

#tyson jost fic #tyson jost one shot #tyson jost oneshot #tyson jost writing #minnesota wild oneshot #minnesota wild one shot #minnesota wild fic #nhl writing #nhl one shot #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #hockey one shot #hockey writing

[equallyshaw]

𝔡𝔯𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔱𝔶𝔰𝔬𝔫 𝔧𝔬𝔰𝔱

Warnings: talks of trauma/ptsd, parents killed in car accident.

Word Count: 2.9 k

also it's 2019-2020 here. got her license in 2019, dont mind the mask. also, she is nameless. an oc without a name.

Sour Masterlist.

Tyson is interchanging between you and he, in this.

Happy New Years!! Hope you guys had a wonderful evening, wish all the best this new year :)

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⊹

I got my driver's license last week

Just like we always talked about

'Cause you were so excited for me

⊹

We met at a Gabe's christmas party, in 2016. I knew Mel from my older sister, they both worked in the same industry. At 18 years old, I still hadn't learned how to drive due to a car accident when I was a kid. I remember I admitted that after we had spent the night with one another two months after we had been talking. You smiled at me, no amusement, no sarcasm or snort in sight. You genuinely, wanted to teach me how to drive and I remember blushing like a fool, and happy tears brim my eyes. Nobody had ever offered, besides my sister.

The very next time we hanged out, on a sunny April afternoon, you smiled and somehow got me to get in that damn drivers seat. I remember having an anxiety attack, I began to shake and cry. With flashbacks of that horrible accident, with me in the backseat. You instantly jumped out of the car, opened the driver's car and kneeled down next to me. Your hands found mine, then set a hand on my knee. Comforting me as much as you could, not knowing or understanding how I felt. You wiped my tears away, giving me a small comforting smile. I frowned then, my lips quivering. You shushed me, bringing my hands up to your mouth and giving them a kiss. You promised me you were there, and that you'd always be. A few minutes later, you hopped back into the passenger seat and told me that I could do this, even if I went less than ten miles an hour in this abandoned parking lot. Somehow, someway I actually drove. Afterwards we got froyo, and I still remember the absolute horrible stomach ache you got. We barely made it to my aunt's house, a few block's drive. You came out of the washroom, and instantly placed your hands on my cheeks, giving me a huge kiss. I remember smiling, and wrapping my hands around yours. We parted, and you told me right then and there. "There is no chance in hell baby you're not getting your permit now!" You playfully joked, and then we marched down to the DMV.

⊹

And you're with that blonde girl

⊹

September rolled around, and so did training camp. You weren't at the DMV like you had promised you'd be. You promised that you were going to fly out a week early just to come with me and be there. Yet, you were not. Then I drove down to downtown Denver, to spend a day in the city shopping before class and I saw you. And I saw her. I swallowed the tears that began to form, before I turned around and out of that coffee shop. Im certain, you noticed my hair as I whipped around.

⊹

And I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone

⊹

We were together from Feburary of that year, and seemingly broke up around the beginning of August, though I had no idea. You forgot to mention that part, Ty. I think back to the times of no clarity, times where I felt like I was walking on egg shells. Feeling like I had to be somebody different, though I wasn't good enough. You forgot to remember or failed to realize, how in love I was. But you knew. You knew how I felt, confessing the same exact thing to me. How did that change? How did I not become enough? It took me a few months to finally feel like I could breathe, without feeling guilty. It always felt like one step forward and three steps back. It was like I was the love of your life, then I wasn't.

It made me angry. How could you simply discard me? Was I know longer enough for you? You toyed with me for some time, got bored and dumped me without telling me? Or were we never what I thought we were? Gabe and Mel tried their hardest to be there for me, but you were his teammate; so he could only be there so much for me. Mel didn't understand and her and my sister would have conversations here and there. You Tyson, just didn't seem like the type to do that. Though, here we are. I just don't see how you could be ok with your best friend to slip away like that, or was I never your best friend?

⊹

And all my friends are tired

Of hearing how much I miss you, but

I kinda feel sorry for them

'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do, yeah

⊹

I knew around Feburary, a year from when we started to date; everybody was tired about hearing him. How I would sometimes see him around town with that blonde girl. I knew they were tired hearing of how much I missed you. Though, they'd never understand. Mel and Gabe would never understand where I would come from. I felt sorry for them, that they'd never see that kid like freedom and kid like spontaneity from him. He'd always have to feel like he had to be 'on' around them, in order to be taken seriously.

They'd never know of him showing up to my sister's house at 9 am on a Sunday with coffee and a donut from the bakey down the street. Or the random brunch dates he would drag me to. Though, I always wanted to go. Free coffee, wouldn't you go? I took a gap year between my senior year of highschool and college, and that year was spent intandem with him. We would stay up to late talking with morning walks with coffee, and my sister and I's dog. We would run off to the zoo every so often, or to the Denver art museum, or one time we went to Breckenridge to ski and snowbaord. Though middway through, he found me in the lobby doing an 'Après-ski' but with hot coco and a croissant. He smiled at me, before giggling as he sat down in front of me at the coffee bar. Nobody knew the real Tyson, that so very few understood and witnessed. Despite, him dropping me like I was nothing; I'll be forever grateful for that time of freedom and childlike bliss with him.

⊹

I still see your face in the white cars, front yards

Can't drive past the places we used to go to

'Cause I still fuckin' love you

⊹

Once I got my license, I used to drive to Mel and Gabe's a lot in order to babysit them. You and a teammate named Jt, moved into a townhouse near them and sometimes I'd take the long way to go past; always to see if you were home. I sometimes drive past the zoo, the museums, the canal where we cayaked, the coffee shops and places where we had brunch dates. The bowling alley where some teammbonding and better halves dates happened. There are some days that I just end up at a place, without thinking. Once I park, or catch the street signs; I then realize where im at. Then head home or someplace else. I still love you Ty, and unfortunetly I can't fucking stop. Im afraid I never will.

⊹

I still hear your voice in the traffic, we're laughing

⊹

There were SO many times we got stuck in traffic, where some of our deepest and most revealing conversations happened. Where some of our fights happened, too. So many times I find myself in the passenger seat, hoping that when I looked over to my sister in the drive's seat, it'd somehow be you. And vice versa. Before we started dating, and right after we met you wanted to take me to see the christmas lights around the city. On the 22nd before you left for home in BC. I smiled shyly, and nodded at the christmas party. We drove around the suburbs, looking at the lights before making our way towards the city. We got stuck in traffic ten minutes away from the zoo lights, and for the first time in my life, I felt incredibly connected to somebody my age.

After my parents died in the car accident, with me in the back seat; I always had trouble connecting with those around me because nobody understood what it was like going through something so life changing and horrific. So I kept to myself, especially the four years after. I finally made two friends, but other than that; I did not have anybody. Certaintly, no boy as a friend. You were my first friend guy friend, and that made me warm and fuzzy inside. In the most platonic and innocence way. I kept that hidden until late Feburary, and again no judgement or alternate thoughts came from you. You accepted that huge part of me, one that has forged a barrier between me and driving. Me and growing up as an adult, and moving on in life. I was always scared that when that happened, I'd be leaving a period of life, a chapter of life that my parents were not apart of. I was 14 when they died, and told myself I'd never drive in my lifetime. Then you came along. And while we sat in that traffic, as I struggled to hold it together, you made me laugh. You told me about growing up in BC, playing hockey, your little sister. Everything. How you were lucky to have JT through all of this, and that he was your bestfriend after only meeting him at training camp. For one of the first time's after the accident, I felt safe in a car. And it was because of you.

I reached out to you when the Pandemic began in March 2020, over a year since we had first met. Only seven months after you and I stopped talking, well you stopped talking. I simply just wanted to make sure you were safe, and to see how you were doing without hockey. I thought that you weren't gonna respond, then a crisp 2 minutes later you did. You told me how you were doing, how lonely you were feeling a week into being alone in the townhouse while JT went home to Chicago with his girlfriend. How upset that you were not able to secure a plane ride home to BC. And that you missed me. I remember pausing once that single message came in, and rereading it over and over again. I wouldn't cave though. He didn't deserve for me to cave. So I simply stated, 'me too.' And I left you on read for two more weeks.

After three weeks altogether, I got a facetime from you around 2 am Mountain time and you were having your first anxiety attack. I remember my heart beating out of my chest, not know what to do over the phone. Once you calmed down after about 10 minutes on facetime, you looked me in the eyes and apologized. Apologized for not only dropping me but how you treated me sometimes in our relationship. I nodded, thanking you. Yet, not givig him much to draw on. I again reiterated that I wished you the best, and hung up. I deleted out messages that sat at the bottom of my conversations list. I blocked your number, sighing a breath of relief. I needed that closure without realizing it.

Yet, he'd always be there with a thorn. You'd always have a sore spot in my heart but with a warning sign. Because you promised to be there, after everything we went through and how long it took me to get to said place; and you weren't there. Did you even love me, like I loved you?

•

@herusername: got my license baby !!!!!

Tags: @mel.landeskog and @sistersusername

350 likes, 87 comments.

||

@mel.landeskog: so proud of you honey!!!!

@sistersusername: so stinking proud of you. Mom and dad would be too🤍

@gabelandeskog: heck yes!!!! Got a new chauffeur now

@herusername: boy bye

@mel.landeskog: my (soul) sister got her licenses today. Never been so proud before, you’re gonna me an amazing aunt. I just know it. Also, a babysitter ;)

200 likes, 19 comments. @tysonjost has liked this photo.

Tag: @herusername

@herusername: ahhh love u. Can’t wait to meet baby landeskog !!!

@bigh0rny: congrats little one 👊🏻

@tysonbarrie: congrats !!

@ryanoreilly: yay!

@natemackinnon: awesome party, why wasn’t I invited??

@bigh0rny: I would like to know why I wasn’t either

@sistersusername: best hype squad in the world

@mel.landeskog: totally !!

@vanessamorgan: ahh congrats baby girl!!!

────────────

Hope you guys enjoyed!!!! Please reblog and like, with any feedback. I appreciate it :)

Random tags: @jayda12 @fallinallincurls @jostystyles @comphyjost @zegras2crosby @mack-samo @andreburakozy @makarhughes @slafgoalskybaby

#tyson jost #tyson Jost x oc #Tyson Jost oneshot #tyson Jost blurb #tyson Jost imagine #sour hockey imagines #Colorado Avalanche #avs #Colorado Avs #buffalo sabres #nhl #hockey #nhl oneshot #hockey oneshot #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl blurb #hockey blurb #Gabriel landeskog #jt compher

[hockeysrus]

Dickwarming Tyson Jost?

Support me on Ko-fi and get a 1k word fic for just 3$

  “Come on, babe, if you keep teasing me like this I’m gonna explode.” Your boyfriend groaned. 

You put a finger to his mouth and said, “hush”

He titled his head back and let out a groan. He’d been sitting like this for what felt like hours.

  “Oh, you’re so dramatic.” You teased.

You were both on the couch having a lazy afternoon during the off season. The sun was trickling through the large glass doors that lead out to the backyard through the living room. Tyson was seated on the couch and you were seated on his lap.

You were both naked from the waist down and his cock was inside of you, cockwarming him for the past little while. You were edging him with slight thrusts of your hips and warm smiles. 

He was slightly red in the face, his breathing short, and you could see sweat drip down his temple. He was feeling the heat, but you weren’t letting up yet.

  “Do you like this, Ty?” You asked.

He nodded his head, “So good, but you’re killing me. Those little movements you keep doing are probably going to give me a heart attack.”

You smiled and pressed a kiss on his cheek, you lipstick leaving a mark. You watched him tilt his head back once more and moan. 

  “Babe, if I die, you’re going to have to explain to the team what happened.” He said.

You kissed his jaw and began slowly roll your hips, “I’ll tell them how I had sex with you so hard you died.” You chuckled.

He rolled his eyes, “They’d chirp at me at my own funeral.”

You laughed and continued to move your hips. Feeling him begin to shake underneath you, you knew he was close. After all you were the one who hung his orgasm over his head like a carrot for the past hour.

  “Come on, baby, please let me come.” 

You thought about it for a moment, continuing to move your hips, wrapping your arms around him, “Wait for my command.” You teased.

He groaned and dug his fingers into your hips, trying to keep from coming. He was patient, he was willing to wait but it felt harder with every second. 

After what felt like forever you rolled your hips a little faster and whispered in his ear, “Now come.”

He swore he saw stars as he came inside you, the edging and the cockwarming felt like a punch in the gut and it made his vision swirl. 

When he finally regained his ability to speak he said, “Can we…. Can we try that again.” with the cutest blush on his face.

Horny Hockey Hours

#tyson jost #tyson jost imagine #nhl imagines #nhl oneshot #hockey oneshot #hockey imagines #Colorado Avalanche

[rangers2076]

Fic Recs

Here are just a few of my favorite pieces of writing on this website. This list is long overdue and I just wanted to thank all of these writers and every other writer for sharing these creations with everyone

Tyler Seguin

Series:

Won’t Go Slowly by @psychospeak-blog

Little Do You Know by @raysofcrosby

Weight of Her World by @dempuckboys

Sex Education by @bandgirlsclub​

Oneshots:

Whiskey by @raysofcrosby​

Kevin Hayes

All My Own in a Big Red Bow by @hattywatch​

Plus Size Fic by @hockeyandtaylorswift​

Summer Friends to Lovers Blurb by @babrielandeskog​

Loves the Way You Love Me Part 1 Part 2 by @hartsytrash

Friends to Lovers by @hockeywocs​

Chris Kreider

Take Me As You Please HC Part 1 Part 2 by @rawmeanderson​

5 Times You Posted About Him, and One Time He Posted About You by @that-fandom-stuck-in-your-head​

Nolan Patrick

Ten Ways to Say It by @mathewbaezal 

Brady Skjei

I Can Help by @jveseysarchive​

Teaching His Daughter How to Walk by @penaltbox​

Andre Burakovsky

Back To Me by @backstrombabe65​

Champion by @rawmeanderson​

Broken Ribs by @carey-pricemas​

Since the Beginning by @hockey-hoe-24-7​

If the World Was Ending by @puckinghell​

Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off Part 1 Part 2 by @psychospeak-blog​

Mitch Marner

Give the Stars Something to Watch by @antoineroussel​

Shower Sex by @angelgummy​

Jimmy Vesey

Manhattan by @hockeywocs​

I Can’t Sleep by @captain-mcdavid​

Love Songs & Companion Piece by @hattywatch​

The Importance of Teamwork by @hattywatch​

Tyson Jost

Wedding Crashers series by @bandgirlsclub​

Collide series by @burkymakar​

Vince Dunn

Series:

Angel by @bandgirlsclub​

Call It What You Want by @bandgirlsclub​

You Ain’t Gotta Love Me by @bandgirlsclub​

Stuck With You by @bandgirlsclub​

Oneshots:

Casual by @hookingminor​

Are You Mine? by @patty-wagon-nols​

Doing It Wrong All Along by @tkachukme​

Back to You by @mbarzals​

Want You Now by @plasticfilth​

Brett Howden

Series:

It’s What You Deserve by @pucksnsticksnhockeyboys​

Oneshots:

Seasons With You by @pucksnsticksnhockeyboys​

Mat Barzal

Series:

Woke Up In Nashville by @bandgirlsclub​

Oneshots:

5 Times Everyone Knew Mat Loved You & The One Time Mat Realized Himself by @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69​

Holy ground by @bandgirlsclub​

Goodnight and Go by @bandgirlsclub​ 

Everything I’ve Been Missing by @bandgirlsclub​

Baby Kiss It Better by @tkachukme​

Every Side of You by @generallybarzy

#fic rec #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #hockey imagines

[hockeylvr59]

Planning on writing this at some point so if you want to help me decide on some of the details here’s your chance. 

#tyson jost imagine #cavalanche #writing poll

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

'MARTHA'S IS PRETTY ROMANTIC' MASTERLIST - t. jost

summary: 2 best friends on vacation to martha's vineyard...they might kiss (they will).

warnings: swearing, self-doubt, confused feelings, mat + fictional gf (toni) meddling

PROLOGUE (15/12/23)

the sabres host an end-of-season meal and tyson's not himself; some good-natured concern for a friend goes a long way...to martha's vineyard.

CHAPTER ONE - COMPLICATED? (23/12/23)

the vacation at martha's kicks off in full swing, but one comment that apparently came from tyson's mouth not only sends your mind spinning, but throws your entire focus out of whack (+neon dinosaur undies)

CHAPTER TWO: JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY (18/01/24)

a lot can happen over two days, but the stand-out event just had to be that time you went to that restaurant and discovered that you didn't really enjoy seeing tyson flirt with other people. also: who the fuck is jamie?

CHAPTER THREE: THE HEART WANTS WHAT THE HEART WANTS (6/3/24)

“If you haven’t understood by now that I like you as more than a friend, then I don’t even think I can help you to understand what’s going on.”

#tyson jost oneshot #tyson jost x reader #tyson jost imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #hockey fic #martha's is pretty romantic masterlist

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

MARTHA'S IS PRETTY ROMANTIC - CHAPTER ONE: COMPLICATED?

summary: the vacation at martha's kicks off in full swing, but one comment that apparently came from tyson's mouth not only sends your mind spinning, but throws your entire focus out of whack (+neon dinosaur undies)

warnings: swearing, sexual innuendos, overthinking, pining (i should also warn you this is gonna be a slow burn so buckle up), oblivious idiots

word count: 3.3k (she's a short one)

prologue | series masterlist | next part

“So…” 

Even the tone of Toni’s voice indicated that she was setting up for girl talk, which, to be honest with her, had been banned within the last seven hours because the boys had both been with one of you nearly all the time, which meant having your little chats was literally impossible.

Until now: Mat and Tyson had both booked a water ski and water board session for the next hour, and neither you or Toni had really had any intention to do it with them, partly because you’d only stepped off a plane mere hours ago, but mostly because it was the first day, and the only thing on either of your minds was relaxing on the nearest stretch of beach, reading in the sun. 

In theory, you should have seen her questioning coming from a mile away.

You sighed, turning your head away from your book as you placed it in the beach bag next to you. Toni had been sitting up on your left, applying suncream and every so often you could see her eyes flicker to the boat you both knew the boys to be on. You were pleasantly surprised it took her so long to begin the line of questioning, but you’d already exhausted the whole ‘oh my god, this place is beautiful’ conversation, and the beach you’d occupied wasn’t very busy either.

“So?” You repeated, adjusting your sunglasses so you could see Toni properly.

She rolled her eyes, smiling at your faux obliviousness, “You and Josty look pretty cosy.”

“In what way?” 

Truthfully, you were curious as to what the two of you looked like from an outside perspective. Sure, Tyson was usually an affectionate person  - with other people. But with you, it was like he was scared to touch you properly. Where he’d probably throw an arm around someone if he was standing with them, say, in an airport, like you were this morning, but with you he’d just stand next to you closely, his arm or front pressed to your back. He wouldn’t budge his hands - not even if it got busy and you had to make your way through a throng of people. 

It was kind of weird, to be honest, because you guys flirted - there was an odd dynamic and hidden tension - but it would never surpass words. That was due to Josty being uncharacteristically non-touchy (unless it couldn’t be helped), and you, you guessed. You weren’t really too touchy with anyone, and it occurred to you, just then, that it was your penchant to keep yourself to yourself that threw Tyson off.

It was why you were a little curious as to what Toni had made of it all.

Toni hummed, hesitating almost, and you immediately knew that she’d picked up on something, “I don’t know, but it’s like you’re on each other’s wavelength mentally, but it’s not really backed up properly.” She paused, thinking, “You guys don’t touch each other. If you touched each other, there wouldn’t be a doubt in my mind that you weren’t together, but…He looks at you like he’d let you break his heart, if that makes sense.”

It didn’t make sense, not at all, really. 

You shrugged, “We’re just good friends.”

Toni froze, hand pressed to her forearm where she’d been rubbing her suncream in, and tilted her head, “No.” She said, a hint of defiance in her tone.

“Yes.”

“That’s not what Mat told me.” 

There was a shoot of uncertainty that buried itself in your chest as it propelled you into a sitting position, your brows knitted together in both complete and utter befuddlement, and downright fear. Mat had to have gotten that from somewhere, “What did Mat tell you?”

Toni swallowed, clearly sensing something was amiss with your reaction, “He said that Tyson had told him it was complicated. I asked why but he said he didn’t know, I just assumed you guys were hooking up or keeping it quiet, that’s why it was weird you weren’t touching each other.”

You shook your head, “No, we…Tyson said it was complicated?” You clarified, a hand getting thrown out into the space between you.

A small smile crept onto Toni’s face, and you could understand why. If the roles were reversed, you’d have found the entire situation somewhat hilarious, of course you would: other people’s drama always was, but not yours.

If there was one thing that remained constant between you and Tyson, it was that you rarely had drama. Your relationship was pretty steady, it had been that way for years. Well, up until Buffalo happened. Then things got a bit weirder the more you saw each other on a weekly basis, and it started after a drunken night out and a bad game of Twister, and from then on something sort of just went a little more unsaid.

But this was a little extreme.

Toni nodded, “Apparently.” Then, in your silence, “Have you two ever hooked up?”

You shook your head, a perturbed expression still on your face.

“Almost hooked up?” This time Toni’s voice seemed to climb in pitch, an almost disbelieving tone etched in her own voice.

“Not that I’m aware of.” You shrugged, this time your eyes going out to take a quick glance at the sparkling waters in front of you.

You could make out their boat in and amongst other ones, a wakeboard and a figure attached to the back of it, a spray of water kicking up behind. You squinted your eyes; it was too tall to be Tyson – too pale. 

Toni hummed thoughtfully, returning her attention back to applying her sunscreen. You were about to pick up your book again to try and distract yourself from what Tyson had told Mat (what part of your relationship was complicated?), when she spoke up again, a little quieter, “I still think he looks at you differently.”

You didn’t even bother asking how.

***

One of your favourite things about going on holiday was the getting ready for tea; a nice shower to clean your skin of sticky sunscreen and saltwater always provided such a relief, and getting changed into a pretty dress and putting on some light makeup fresh out of a shower was an experience completely unmatched in your day to day life. It might have also had something to do with the fact that you were in Martha’s Vineyard with Tyson, Mat and Toni, and although it had only been one day, it felt like the much-needed getaway from your working life. 

A little escape every now and then couldn’t hurt, and the company certainly helped alleviate any tension.

You’d only just managed to put on your dress when there was a knock at the door. 

Considering the fact that you could hear Mat singing along with the music from the house speakers, and you knew Toni had just gone downstairs to supervise, it meant that Tyson was the one knocking.

He’d not had the chance to shower and get dressed yet because you’d been using the shower, and when he slinked in, back-first, you couldn’t resist the amused smile on your face at his caution.

“You can turn around, I’m dressed.” You laughed softly, sitting on the stool of the vanity and eyeing him through the mirror.

He spun around, eyes bouncing from you to the towel folded neatly on the end of his side of the bed (his side because you had your bags and shit across your side), before his gaze returned back to you.

“Is it okay if I just take a quick shower?” He asked, already reaching for the towel.

“Sure, do you want me to leave—”

“Nah, it’s fine.” He brushed your question off and disappeared through the bathroom door.

It took a couple of seconds for your brain to really digest what he’d just said.

It’s fine.

It’s fine? Fine for what? Fine for you to see him in his naked glory, or fine that meant he trusted you wouldn’t look?

You hadn’t seen him grab his undies from his suitcase thrown under the bed, so he’d just wander out into your shared room in nothing but a towel, dripping wet, curls sopping and water droplets rolling down his chest? He expected you to be cool with that?

You couldn’t be cool with that. You’d seen him getting out of the ocean, sure, but a shower felt different. There was barely ten feet between you both in this room at all times, and the door was shut — claustrophobic. That’s what it felt like, imagining Tyson climbing out of the shower smelling of his shower gel had you feeling claustrophobic. Your skin was prickling and you felt your cheeks get hotter by the second.

Why was this bothering you so much? 

You’d seen Tyson naked before, almost. He’d showered at yours and you’d gone into the bathroom with permission because he’d forgotten…he’d forgotten his underwear and his towel had slipped. He’d caught it easily, what with those hockey reflexes and all, but you’d seen the deep v-line, the happy trail and the beginnings of a short trim of pubic hair.

It hadn’t bothered you then, and the only thing that had changed remotely since that incident was that talk with Toni.

Tyson said it was complicated.

In what fucking way was your relationship complicated? Had you misread something? Missed signals? Given him the wrong idea? (There wasn’t a right idea, really.)

And if you weren’t careful, history was about to repeat itself because he’d just walked into the bathroom and got in the shower with only his towel and damp trunks and no underwear again. Only the idea to kick you out hadn’t occurred to him considering the fact that he’d shot your suggestion of leaving the room to give him some semblance of privacy down, and hadn’t given any hints as to how he’d actually get from a (wet from the shower) to b (dry and in clothes) when 60% of the steps needed for part b were under his bed.

Should you rush your makeup? You weren’t putting much on anyway, so you could make it quick if needs be. 

Or should you start to pull out his suitcase even though that would be a complete violation of privacy?

You swallowed, blinking at your reflection in the vanity mirror and continuing your work. He was an adult, he could figure it out for himself.

You’d just sprayed some perfume when the telltale realisation seemed to strike.

“Fuck.” You could hear him groan, the sound ricocheting off the tiled walls.

You smiled a little.

“Um—” he started, voice raised above the noise of the fan, and you took a few steps away from the dresser to the bathroom door to hear him clearer, “are you still there?”

You furrowed your brows at the hesitancy in his voice, “Yes?” 

There was a quiet pause for a moment, almost as though he was thinking about how to possibly go about manoeuvring his way around this little bump in the road, before:

“Please could you go into my suitcase and get me a pair of clean undies?” His voice sounded a little weaker, like it physically pained him to ask that of you, and because you’d anticipated what he’d need a little ahead of him asking it, you were already pulling the suitcase out from under his bed before he’d even finished asking his question.

“Yeah, where are they?” You shouted over your shoulder, cursing under your breath as you took in the chaotic and unorganised state of his suitcase. If you didn’t know better you’d have assumed he’d already rifled through there in panic mode because not a single thing was folded or placed in a manner that suggested related things were kept in one space, i.e. toiletries, underwear & socks etc.

No, it was all just one pile of bottles and cans and odd shoes and socks and crumpled undies that did have you wondering if they’d been picked straight from a packet or if he’d forgotten to do laundry and just fished them out of the basket in a mad dash. He probably had more caps than t-shirts, and his suitcase was barely a third full. In fact, the heaviest thing was a pair of weighted bracelets. What he’d need those for had you stumped because 1KG to Tyson, let alone any hockey player, was not enough to maintain their needed and current muscle mass whatsoever.

You were staring at the cacophony of random colour assortments (bless his soul) when his reply came through the crack in the door, “Anywhere, everywhere. Just take the nearest pair — huh,” you heard him chuckle softly to himself, “would you look at that? I’m a master rhymer.”

“You’re definitely something.” You mutter to yourself, pulling an amused face at the neon dinosaur undies you’d just dug out.

Those would do, you decided.

 “How do you want me to do this?” You asked, pausing at the door.

You weren’t about to walk in on him naked (although your skin did prickle at the thought — goddamn claustrophobia!) and you certainly—

“For starters, you’re not gonna dress me.” Tyson breathed a laugh, finishing your internal dialogue rather well.

“All you have to do is ask.”

The silence was deafening. 

You blamed the beachside margaritas. They’d probably gotten to your head (any buzz they created had worn off before the boys had even got back from their boat). 

Fuck.

Fuck.

Tyson wasn’t saying anything. In fact, he’d gone so quiet on the other side of the door that you wondered if he was still breathing.

You should have taken the hint, honestly. The flirty thing had dwindled massively since after the team dinner when he’d asked you to come here in the first place, and you had absolutely no clue where all of that just came from. You hadn’t even been thinking the words, they’d just flown out of your mouth before you could catch them and now you felt like an idiot holding Tyson’s dinosaur undies in your hand—

You didn’t remember when your eyes closed, but they flew open when the door creaked in front of you. You almost felt too ashamed to even lift your eyes to look at his face when it peaked through the gap, some steam billowing out as soon as he did so.

But Tyson wasn’t smiling, which instantly struck you as odd and almost had you apologising on the spot. 

If it weren’t for the look on his face. He’d always been pretty readable, he wore his heart on his sleeve most of the time, but now you couldn’t quite grasp what he was thinking. He was looking at you, but it felt like he was looking straight through you with the way his brows were slightly furrowed in consideration. He looked serious.

You started shaking your head, an apology on the tip of your tongue and cheeks aflame.

“I-I’ll keep that in mind.” He muttered softly, a smile threatening to tug at the corners of his mouth until he reached his hand through the gap in the door, eyes still boring into yours. Your cheeks still felt hot, and you doubted he’d not notice considering the fact that there was barely five inches between you both, and his hand flexed.

Somehow, and with a lot of effort, you managed to string a couple of words together through the thick haze of your embarrassment, “You do that.” 

You placed his scrunched up undies in his waiting palm, and before you could say anything to incriminate yourself further, you turned your back, ears pricking when you heard the sound of the door shut behind you. You’d made it three steps to the bed when it occurred to you that what Tyson had told Mat might actually be true.

Only, there was barely another second to dwell too much on it before Tyson was strolling back into the bedroom, wearing only his neon dino undies and a distracting lack of anything else. 

Your brain seemed to lag slightly when it took in his slightly damp hair and defined chest. And shoulders. And arms. And your mouth only seemed to dry when your eyes briefly caught on the dark stripe of hair–

“You look nice.” He complimented offhandedly, dragging his towel through his hair one last time before throwing it on the bed and sending you a charming smile – it was a quieter smile than the ones he usually thrown your way, but given the rather awkward atmosphere you’d created, it wasn’t much of a shock.

“Thanks.” You returned the tight smile, turning back to the dresser and picking out some jewellery.

And all the while you were putting your earrings in, choosing a bracelet, rings and a necklace that Tyson assumed matched your dress, he couldn’t really take his eyes off you – as if he couldn’t already. He’d almost stubbed his toe on his suitcase when he got a look at your entire outfit because you wore it beautifully. And to top it all off, when you’d opened the bathroom door to pass him his undies, he’d gotten a whiff of your perfume in return for the steam, and he almost had to slam the door shut to deal with another little issue.

It had barely been twenty-four hours and you were already driving him crazy. On the boat, Mat had told him to grow a pair, but he didn’t know if he wanted to unless you gave him some indication of perhaps mutual feelings (as though Tyson would ever actually give you obvious hints). He thought maybe he’d misheard your little comment earlier, and he’d opened the door to just double-check, but that had just gone out of the window when he saw your red cheeks and lack of eye contact.

It could have been a hint, but it could have also just been a cheeky comment – and under no circumstances was Tyson ever going to get those two confused. Ever. You meant too much.

“That offer to help dress you still stands, you know?”

He blinked, and you were suddenly turning around to look at him. His fingers faltered on his shirt buttons and it took a second for his brain to understand what you’d just said because he’d sworn your mouth had moved but no sound had come out of it, and then his eyes drifted down.

He’d missed a button hole and his shirt wasn’t lining up.

He sighed, shaking his head and quickly unbuttoning to the mistake, “‘M starting to think I might have to take you up on it.”

You laughed softly, not bothering to say anything, and instead watched him from where you’d stood leant against the dresser, your arms crossed, as he focused on buttoning up properly. 

There were tons of good jokes floating around your head, but given the delicate situation you’d found yourselves in (there was no way it wasn’t delicate – the atmosphere in the room gave the impression that if you even so much as stepped on the wrong floorboard something would inevitably come to light), you’d opted out.

It never even crossed your mind to leave Tyson to finish getting ready and make your way downstairs with Toni and Mat. 

“You ready?” You asked, eyes taking in his outfit. 

It seemed very Mat-inspired, with a short-sleeved black linen shirt and baggier beige dress pants. He looked…hot, at the very least. And he smelt fucking insane, too.

He hummed, nodding, a cheeky smile on his face before he held his arms at his sides and spun on the spot.

“You look really good.” You breathed a laugh, not detecting a single hint of lies in your words.

“Yeah?” He mumbled shyly, and you nodded, making for the door.

“Yeah. Mat might faint at your feet when he sees you.” 

Tyson swallowed, feeling his cheeks redden at his own effort to hold himself back from asking just how ‘good’ you thought he looked. He didn’t care about what Mat thought, he’d seen him at some pretty tough points in life and vice versa, so if anything, he cared about Mat’s opinion on aesthetics the least.

“Well, that’s always my intention.” 

#tyson jost oneshot #tyson jost x reader #tyson jost imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #nhl fic #martha's is pretty romantic #hockey fic

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

MARTHA'S IS PRETTY ROMANTIC - PROLOGUE

summary: the sabres host an end-of-season meal and tyson's not himself; some good-natured concern for a friend goes a long way...to martha's vineyard.

warnings: swearing, sexual innuendos, anxious tyson

word count: 3.4k

series masterlist | part one

“Oh.” The shock laced in your voice wasn’t entirely subtle. Neither was the way your brows practically buried themselves in the midst of your hairline at the sheer surprise of seeing the man on your doorstep, but, alas, nothing about this little relationship of yours was entirely usual.

Relationship – a little too affectionate to be friends, but not affectionate enough to be more. 

There was a fine line, and you and Tyson were doing wonderfully at balancing on that precipice; as demonstrated in this very moment.

He was standing on your doormat, a gorgeous deep green chequered blazer slung over his arm, his fist clenched around something you couldn’t immediately see and an adorably hopeful smile on his face. It changed, though, when he saw you. Flickered, even. 

Momentarily his eyes dropped down your figure, then zipped back up to your face, a slight flush of colouring now prominent in his cheeks as he cleared his throat and stepped up slightly. You’d been in the midst of changing into your dress when he’d turned up, which meant all you were wearing was a tight black satin slip that hugged your figure in a way that even had you questioning yourself in the mirror, because who was that person staring back at you?

You looked good, and a small part of you felt gratified taking note of the way that Tyson obviously agreed.

“Sorry for intruding,” his tongue darted out, wetting his lips as he couldn’t help but roam his eyes one more time over the sight before him, “But I just needed some–some help with the colours…” he trailed off, unfurling his closed fist to reveal a pair of rather expensive-looking silver cufflinks, but it was the trio of different ties hidden under his blazer that seemed to be the root of the issue.

You blinked, stifling an amused smile at the whole situation, because it was clear he’d come over unannounced with the intention of being invited in – and you were both still standing in your doorway (thank fuck it was fairly warm weather today) – and you would invite him in eventually.

It didn’t mean you weren’t about to give him a bit of shit for it, though.

Your eyes trailed over the ties now hooked through his fingers as he hastily stashed the cufflinks in the noticeably well-fitted trouser pockets, assessing the colours with some consideration. 

There was a black one, a grey one, and a burgundy one.

In all honesty, you weren’t an expert on ties, at all. But in the very second you picked one up, something seemed to click.

You’d tried to ignore it for the sake of not wanting to be caught ogling the same man who’d worked his way up your list of close friends in the past couple of months, but after picking up a tie and moving with the intention of placing it against his shirt, you’d come to a deadend.

His shirt was short-sleeved; biceps gloriously tanned and nicely made up – which was precisely the issue.

“You’re wearing a polo shirt.” You raised your brows, a soft tie still in your hands when you folded your arms and looked straight at him.

And the fucker was smirking. And then he was just shamelessly grinning ear-to-ear, teeth slightly grazing over his bottom lip as though he had half the mind to not look so deranged and so proud of catching you out here – and all that seemed to conclude with a simple nod.

You bit the inside of your cheek, attempting to look a little pissed off by his antics, but you hadn’t been able to hold a straight face in front of Tyson since he spent his first night in Buffalo eating a takeout in your front room after EJ had given him your address. He’d been understandably devastated at the time, but you’d been the only person he knew in Buffalo and it seemed your friendly face eased him into the transition a little easier.

But that night excluded, you just couldn’t keep a serious facade in front of the man. There was just something so infectious about his entire demeanour that made it so difficult for you to do that.

You tried to glare at him, but you saw his eyes go to your cheek from where you’d bitten it to stop yourself from smiling, before they’d briefly flickered down to your chest from where you’d folded your arms, and you took that as an incentive to uncross them and actually use your words.

“You’re an idiot.” You rolled your eyes fondly, passing him the tie back as he took half a step backwards from the force of your shove and the unadulterated burst of laughter now ripping through the air placed him a little off balance. 

He took your hand instead of the tie and you forced yourself to be normal about the way he used it as leverage to bring himself closer so he was eye-level with you, a step below your door.

“I know,” his laughter died down as he retreated his hand, instead winding the tie in your grip around his fingers, taking it from you, “but I just wanted to see you  before we went out, that’s all.” He sighed, jaw clenching as the smile melted off his face for a brief second.

You shrugged, not wanting to think too much into why that just happened when you had approximately fifteen minutes to actually properly dress yourself and recheck you looked presentable, and although Tyson looked practically edible in that suit, you knew if he was within a seven metre radius that you’d break said time slot allocations, and that was the very last thing you needed if either of you had the intention of arriving on time at all.

“You’ve seen me.” You shrugged, but Tyson shook his head, apparently having none of it.

“Nah, I wanna see what you’re wearing.” He said defiantly, and before his gaze could travel south to the swell of your boobs and your bra, you snapped a finger in his face, causing him to blink in shock.

“Eyes are here.” 

He swallowed, mouth parting as the tips of his ears reddened slightly. If it weren’t for his eyes you’d have thought he’d be embarrassed at having been caught, but Tyson had never not taken stuff like this in his stride.

Which is why he shrugged good-naturedly, a small smile curving at his lips, “I’m sorry for looking,” you could practically smell the lie emanate through his pores, “but they’re kinda, like, right in my face right now.”

You sighed, turning around before he could see the blush on your own cheeks (his shamelessness always managed to catch you off guard because he was usually so cheeky, and you honestly had no clue as to what brings this out when he talks to you, but you’d be lying if a part of you didn’t enjoy the attention – and a part of you would be lying if you didn’t enjoy it more because it was coming from him), and you left the door open behind you.

You didn’t even turn around to check if he’d followed you through and shut the door behind him because you’d practically rushed up the stairs – trying not to make yourself sweat after that interaction and the short burst of exercise – and into your bedroom.

The dress was on a hanger hung on the back of your bathroom door, and by the time you’d slipped it on, somehow managing not to muss up your hair in the process, you could hear Tyson’s heavy footsteps thudding up the stairs after you. It took all of five seconds for you to notice him enter the bathroom, see you putting on your jewellery and spritzing a last splash of perfume and slightly adjusting your makeup, and then promptly stop.

It was pretty violent, the way he halted, almost throwing himself back into the door.

The dress you’d picked was one you hadn’t had the chance to wear before, but it was sheer with a black floral pattern and fell to mid-calf. The neckline and because it also hugged your figure pretty tightly, it left as little to the imagination as the black slip did. In fact, it looked as though you were wearing a black slip with a pattern, and not much else.

Tyson didn’t move an inch from where he’d stopped, not even a hand to tuck back the curl that had flopped onto his forehead after the aggressive stop, not until you’d finished applying your lipstick and turned to him.

Not until you’d all but ignored him as you breezed past, the fresh spritz of your perfume sending his senses haywire as you did so.

Then he moved. He spun on his heel, mouth dry as he watched you go about your final routine, gathering bits and pieces from your other bags and purses and collating them in the one you’d decided to take to dinner tonight. 

And fuck it if Tyson wasn’t currently trying to not look at you and simultaneously look at you. You looked breathtaking (though, you always did, even in hoodies and sweats), but his mind was a dangerous place, especially after harbouring this not-so-little crush on you and the whole flirting thing but never actually acting on it in the situation you’d got going on.

The dress left little to the imagination. Little to none, and he was having a hard time extinguishing the little flame that had ignited in his mind after he’d seen what you were wearing. For now, it was a thought, a simple idea of wow, I wonder how that dress would look if there was nothing underneath it. That thought was pretty harmless – he was just having trouble trying not to picture it.

And also looking at anything that wasn’t you because you looked divine. Divine, he thinks. He also wonders how the hell he’s supposed to let you sit next to EJ, your cousin, the entire night when you could be sitting next to him. He thinks that’d be more bearable than being on the other side of the table and able to look at you whenever he wanted to, because if you were sitting next to him, it’d be harder to look straight at you and therefore be held back – but if you sat next to him there was no way he’d be able to keep his hands to himself.

And that thought alone made something drop in his stomach. Words were fine, words were harmless, it was why you’d both resorted to the whole flirting thing, but touching was another thing in itself. Touching cemented unspoken feelings and hinted at other desires, and potentially allowed moments of wishful thinking and what-ifs, and that was something Tyson couldn’t afford to do. Not with you. Not only because you were EJ’s cousin, but because you were probably one of his closest friends.

It was also why, when you finally looked at him, cheeks flushed from the rushing around, he snapped out of his daze and readjusted his stance to a more casual one, one that didn’t scream you practically just floored me with your beauty and I just saw through space and time for a second, but whatever, no big deal or anything.

And why, when you asked “Do I look okay?” with a nervous expression on your face, as though his opinion mattered, answering with “Gorgeous.” came with zero hesitation before he was whisking the both of you downstairs and out of the door before the weight of his words could even begin to marinate in your head.

***

Tyson was being weird at the dinner. It was an end of season thing, and because Tyson had been traded to Buffalo before EJ had, it meant you’d known the team longer than your own cousin – which was a strange thought considering he played for them. So, naturally (you say that with hesitation), somehow you always seemed to get roped to come along with one or the other as a plus one if EJ or Tyson brought a date.

And despite EJ’s loud comments in your ear, it couldn’t quite distract you from the fact that Tyson had been uncharacteristically quiet on the other side of the table. In fact, he’d been quiet in the car after he’d insisted he’d drive you over to the restaurant instead of taking a taxi – it wasn’t uncommon, sometimes he wouldn’t talk unless you asked him questions, but it was weird considering the fact he’d been nothing but bubbly since he followed you inside your house.

It briefly crossed your mind that it was something you must have done to have him act like that, but he wasn’t one to offend easily, and you didn’t remember doing anything catastrophically hurtful towards him to warrant that kind of reserved reaction.

And because you’d known him for a while now, getting on a few years, you guessed it was probably his own brain keeping him quiet. He’d been chewing his lip every so often, fiddling with the cutlery in front of him and you’d also felt him shake his knee under the table. You hadn’t said anything in front of everyone, but you’d tapped the toe of his shoe gently with your own and flashed him a curious eye to which he’d shrugged and thrown a careless smile in your direction.

In fact, that nervous energy persisted throughout the entire meal. If anyone else noticed it, there wasn’t a comment; EJ was as oblivious as ever, gladly chatting away to Jeff, and you’d eventually swapped places with someone else so you could talk to Rachel. Even so, you didn’t stop checking up on Tyson – couldn’t help it really when each time you looked slightly to your right from looking at Rachel that it meant you’d be looking straight at Tyson over a couple of shoulders.

“Hey,” you found yourself taking the now empty seat on Tyson’s left, “are you ready to go, or do you want to stay a bit longer?” 

He leant back against the chair, palms splayed across the tops of his thighs, and all it took was a sigh and a meaningful, tired blink for the both of you to be saying your goodbyes and heading out to his parked car.

He was still quiet.

“Are you okay?” You muttered, stepping up to his side.

There was something unreadable on his face as he turned to look at you; shock at having been caught –  it was a possibility, but with the way he faltered and paused as though he was about to say something…you weren’t sure what to think or do.

What you weren’t going to do, though, was press on it. Especially because Tyson had never really been one to dwell on things for too long before saying something, so you weren’t particularly worried.

“Yeah.” He nodded, pressing his lips together, and you left it at that.

Then his hand disappeared in the pocket of his pants, and you assumed he’d gone to fish out his car keys, leaving the conversation at that (because, in all honesty, you didn’t entirely feel as though you had the right to pester and pester if he didn’t want to, and it briefly occurred to you that you were way overthinking the entire situation here), but he stopped on the sidewalk, grabbing your elbow to get your attention.

It was dark now, but you could still see him. 

He looked nervous about something, but he was focusing on the small screen of his phone, fingers tapping quickly to find something. In the meantime, you let him have a bit of space, ignoring the urge to look over his shoulders to see what he was doing, but you had an inkling that this had something to do with his behaviour throughout the entire night.

“Um…” he started, taking a deep breath, before flipping his phone around to show you a chain of texts between him and Mat. You took the phone, eyes scanning over what was being said, but there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary in particular. Mat was going on holiday, he’d asked Tyson if he wanted to go with him.

Tyson inhaled, and you looked up, unable to help the slight furrow in your brow, “Okay? It’s summer break,” you swallowed, entirely confused and a little concerned, “there’s no hockey.”

Silence.

Tyson scraped his teeth over his bottom lip, his hands on his hips, “Well, I spoke to Mat this morning, and he said he’s got a place at Martha’s Vineyard for him and Toni and he wants to know if I’d go with them.”

You cringed. Third wheeling Mat and Toni at Martha’s Vineyard of all places kind of seemed like a horrendous idea.

“He also said…Um,” his hands tapped on his thighs as he shot you some sort of desperate and frustrated look, like you weren’t managing to read his mind on what he was trying to say, “I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?” 

Oh.

“Oh.” You stuttered, seemingly at a loss for words as you cast your eyes back to the phone screen to reread it.

It was just an address, notes on the flight times and dates, and an open invitation of a room still left in the house they’d rented and Tyson hadn’t replied to that – it was where you were assuming the phone call occurred.

But a simple ‘oh’ to Tyson clearly meant something else because before you could even begin to think about it he’d spewed out more words, “I mean, you don’t have to go, I’d get it if you didn’t want to because there’s only one room and it’s Martha’s so it won’t be a twin room, which kinda means, well, y’know. Also third wheeling Mat and Toni doesn’t sound very appealing, so there’s that too.” He wasn’t rushing through your defence at all, more like calmly listing off reasons for you not to go so you didn’t have to.

“Martha’s Vineyard in August.” You muttered, shutting off his phone and handing it back to him. He ducked his head a little, trying to get a read on you, “August is, like, peak tourist season, right?” 

You wanted to go. But Martha’s in August would absolutely wreak havoc on your bank account.

Tyson nodded softly, “It’s already been paid for. I’m not even paying for anything other than flights, sounds like they had a house and there was an extra room, that’s all.”

Well, that was that then.

“Okay.” You nodded, flashing an excited smile.

Tyson blinked, “Okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll go with you. I can book it off work, I’ve got enough holiday time. I’d have to go shopping, but I can work something out with Toni–”

“Even if we have to share a bed?” 

“Well, when you put it like that.” You muttered sarcastically at the tone of his voice, “Do you sleepwalk or sleep-yell or something?”

He just stared.

“Do you not want me to go?” It had played across your mind, but you figured if he didn’t want you there, he’d have never bothered to ask in the first place. And the way he’d said it, it made it seem like it was Mat’s suggestion and that Tyson would never have thought to even invite you.

It wasn’t that deep, though. You guys were friends.

“No, no, I want you to go.” He breathed, tilting his head at you curiously, “I guess I just didn’t expect you to say yes.”

You pulled a face, “It’s a mostly free vacation to Martha’s, why would I say no?”

He pulled his mouth into a tight line, dumbfounded at your willingness, “Martha’s is pretty romantic.” Was all he said.

You rolled your eyes at him, “Thank fuck I’m not allergic to romance, then. Why are you so against me saying yes?”

“I’m not, I just – are you sure you want to spend an entire week with me?”

Your annoyance dimmed at that, something twanging in your chest at the self-deprecating doubt, “I’d love to spend an entire week with you.”

He swallowed, brown eyes widening fractionally. When he still didn’t say anything, you took it as an incentive to continue talking.

“Is that okay with you?”

He just nodded dumbly.

#tyson jost oneshot #tyson jost x reader #tyson jost imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #nhl fic #martha's is pretty romantic

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

with you - t. jost

tyson jost x f!reader

warnings: hospitals, swearing, fainting/dizziness/light-headedness, mentions of blood tests, medical inaccuracies, implant as a method of hormonal contraception, anxiety, pregnancy, implications of sex, mention of alcohol (lmk if there's more)

< a/n: this has an abrupt ending so i apologise in advance >

word count: 8.1k

Your eyes were glued to the screen of your phone, watching Tyson’s contact photo wander to the parking lot of the golf club. Your foot was bouncing on the linoleum bed they’d put you on, arm laid flat against the surface, a cotton wool ball taped at the crease of your inner elbow.

The phone itself was leaning against your thighs, still clad in your sports leggings, and your free hand was anxiously pulling at your bottom lip.

The thumping in your chest was way too prominent to ignore, and you guessed it was the knowledge that you’d most definitely feel better if he was with you that had you pressing his contact number.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He picked up on the second ring, airy tone already suggesting he was smiling. 

Almost instantly the sound of his voice seemed to ease the knot in your chest, and you sighed into the phone, your bouncing foot stilling, “Hi,” you started, the words lined up in your brain and dancing on the end of your tongue, yet somehow still stuck behind the blockade of apprehension, “um–”

“Are you okay?” Tyson’s worried voice cut through your phone, somehow clearer than it had been ten seconds ago. 

You nodded to yourself, sucking in a deep breath and trying to prepare yourself for what you were about to tell him, but it didn’t seem to have the desired effect to the desired extent. Your chest was still heavy and your mind was racing, and you were vaguely aware of the fact that he’d cut his car engine because your silence was worrying him, “I’m fine,” it was a partial truth, “I just…Are you sitting down?”

It was his turn to hesitate, “Yeah.” Then, in a low voice, just a smidge harsher than a whisper, “Baby, you’re kind of scaring me right now.”

You blinked, “Don’t be scared, and definitely don’t freak out.”

“Now I’m scared and freaking out. What–”

“I’m fine, okay?” The more you repeated that, the less confident you felt in the weight of them, your certainty wavering by the second–

“You keep saying that, but you sound like you’re not.” His voice was soft, still most definitely concerned, but still displaying an insane amount of patience.

If the roles had been reversed (although, considering Tyson most definitely could not get pregnant, this situation was a little different), there was absolutely no way you would have been able to maintain that same level-headedness if he was on the phone sounding as completely out of it as you assumed you did.

You swallowed, feeling a multitude of emotions begin to simmer under your skin – so much so that trying to dissect and analyse each pound of your heart or tremble of your fingers was exhausting – and you could feel your previous shock-induced numbness begin to fade, “I need you to pick me up from the hospital–”

“Said no fine person ever!”

You ignored his rather panicked comment, instead soldiering through before you lost your nerve, “I’m not injured, nothing’s broken, nothing hurts, but I fainted out at tennis and Sabine drove me here. I can’t come home by myself for another two hours, but I want to come home now and the only way I can do that is if someone picks me up.” 

Silence.

You felt your eyes prickle slightly – you were so overwhelmed the lightheadedness felt like it could start to make a comeback, “Tys?” 

A dry sniffle sounded through the phone, and before his voice cut through to answer you, the sound of the engine spurred back to life, “Of course I’ll come and get you. I’m on my way, ‘kay? Just pulling out the lot right now, I’ll be about fifteen minutes.” 

“Okay.” You whispered, focusing your eyes on the ceiling and trying to get your breathing under control.

“How are you feeling now?” He asked gently, just the sound of his voice giving you something else to focus on besides the flickering lightbulb and the calling of other names from the waiting room outside.

“Better than I did earlier. They gave me something to eat so I don’t feel as weak, but the lightheadedness is kind of still kicking around. The dizziness has gone, but my arm’s a little sore from where they took my blood.” 

You could picture him behind the wheel of  his car, phone hooked up to the Bluetooth system, a crease between his brows and the telltale tilt of a frown playing at the corners of his mouth. He hadn’t shaved recently, a soft scruff coming in, and your hands tingled in remembrance. He’d be warm, too, a vast contrast to your current state. 

It wasn’t just the room you were in either, even despite wearing a hoodie, you were freezing. Your hands and feet were almost numb, and your skin was littered with goosebumps – it was the stress of the entire day manifesting into physical symptoms. 

“Bl..” He began, sentence trailing off, “Bloods – is it anything serious?” He rambled, voice straining slightly.

It was serious. Very serious – life changing, in fact. But not serious in the way he was insinuating.

So you lied; it wasn’t the sort of thing to tell over the phone, much less when he was driving, and if you were being honest, you wanted to keep the news to yourself a little while longer just to mull it over and let it sink in, “No, nothing serious,” there was a twinge of guilt that nested itself under your ribs, “They said it was caused by low blood pressure from my hormones.”

He made a noise of acknowledgement, not delving further into the reason as to why it was caused by your hormones – something you were grateful for – before continuing, “You didn’t hurt yourself when you fainted did you? Your head’s okay, right?”

Despite yourself, you cracked a small smile at his questions, “You should know.” It was a half-hearted attempt to try to reassure him, and judging from the short huff of laughter, it did so to an extent, “But no, I didn’t. I was literally warming up and then out of nowhere, I was just hit with this wave of dizziness. I thought it’d sort itself out when I sat out for a bit, but it got worse and the next thing I know I’m waking up to Sabine kneeling next to me saying I passed out.” You sighed again. Your brain hadn’t shut up since the whole incident had occurred, and, cautiously, almost curiously, you slid your sore arm under your jumper.

It felt weird, perhaps a little silly considering the fact that there was nothing to show for said pregnancy just yet, but as you gently skimmed a thumb over the skin, your nerves spun on their head a little. It was anticipation, with a peppering of excitement.

It had been a wedding that started everything; a friend of yours from high school was marrying their college sweetheart and you’d dragged Tyson along (freshly from your second year anniversary) with the intention of spending a few days away from the chaos of the NHL and the uncertainty surrounding his career. 

Amidst it all, you’d both somehow become the in-ceremony babysitters – unintentionally. It turned out Tyson seemed to be some kind of magnet for all things hockey related, including children and rogue pucks. So when a rubber disk was flicked too high and too wide, hitting someone in the middle of their back, he’d taken it upon himself to teach the ones playing on the grass (how they’d made playing hockey work on uncut grass you had no idea) how to properly control and flick the sticks with more precision, and, you wanting a break from the mini high school reunions, had followed him, taking a seat on the banking of the hill.

It was a good view, even more so when the sun had started to drop, casting an orangey glow from behind you. Tyson had been teaching about ten kids the ways of hockey for a while by that point, them completely enraptured by what he was saying. He’d let the bigger kids go off by themselves, and was crouching in front of a five year old girl, pigtails held up by pink ribbons, helping her when she couldn’t quite get the grip right on the stick. The boys had wandered off, leaving her by herself, even though you’d heard her shout after them, but Tyson had stayed.

He’d shed his blazer a while ago, and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, and even though you knew how expensive his dress pants were he’d not even thought twice about kneeling on the dewy ground. Everything about the entire scene was endearing – in the way that had you falling in love with him even more. 

You barely held yourself back from dropping your head in your hands when the little girl had reached out to tug on one of his curls inquisitively, giggling when it bounced back immediately. And when he ducked and shook his head for her to see? 

You could have died happily.

But you, on the other hand, also had company of sorts. 

From where you’d initially sat down by yourself on the banking, a glass of Prosecco in your hand, a group of three girls had slowly migrated towards you, led by sheer curiosity. 

One looked around nine, wearing a deep purple tulle dress with butterflies embroidered along the bottom, and was holding hands with another little girl who could barely walk without assistance and looked half asleep. The third must have been about six or seven, trainers on her feet, with a green jumpsuit.

Green jumpsuit was Fiona, purple tulle was Iris and the toddler with ruddy cheeks and a pink pinafore dress was Eden. 

And two out of three of the girls had their eyes focused on your hands, where you’d been picking daisies and knotting them to form a chain.

It barely took five minutes, a reassurance from Iris that, yes, Eden’s parents are aware she’s taken her for a walk, and yes, they do trust her to look after her as long as she’s with Fiona, and within no time you’d found yourself showing the older girls how to make the daisy chains, and somehow, somewhere along the lines, Eden had slumped her head against your chest, legs kicked out around your waist, and was snoring gently on your collarbone. 

After that, it had been difficult to keep sneaking glances at Tyson due to your stolen attention, but that was your moment. It was the moment.

Watching the girls cheer in excitement and giggle and smile at each other and boast about their successful daisy chains, eventually showing them off to Tyson when the little girl he’d been teaching had joined the boys (she’d stunned them with her determined flicks into their makeshift net) and he’d climbed up the banking to sit with you.

It wasn’t his moment, that much you knew, but it certainly solidified what he’d already decided, and you could tell just in the way he’d taken a seat next to you, leaning back on his elbows with his legs stretched out down the hill. It was in the way he’d looked at you with the girls, with Eden, in the way his smile seemed to physically split his cheeks, in the way they seemed to turn a little bit pink when you raised a knowing eyebrow in his direction at his lack of subtlety. It was also in the way he’d leant himself towards you, hand tracing shapes on the red silk at your hips, before gently tracing the seams of Eden’s baby shoes.

Neither of you had actually brought up the unspoken yet entirely noticeable change until you’d both tucked yourself under the duvet in your hotel room.

“Are you still awake?” You whispered into the darkness, eyes trained to where you knew the ceiling to be.

You knew he wasn’t because he’d been pretty still – a stark contrast to his usual fidgeting and shuffling. Though, as soon as you’d spoken you could feel and hear the rustle of the duvet as he rolled onto his side, eyes burning into the side of your face from where you’d laid on your back.

“I can’t sleep.” He admitted, sighing through his nose, the action blowing strands of your own hair into your face.

You didn’t say anything for a moment, body still but mind loud. 

Then you flicked your bedside light on and rolled towards the middle of the bed, nearly nose to nose with Tyson, who, up close and personal, looked more awake than he definitely should have been considering the fact that it was getting on to half past one in the morning.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You whispered, watching his face closely.

Gentle brown eyes pierced your gaze, his lashes fluttering when he blinked, hair separated into curls after the late night shower, and something in his jaw ticked. It elicited your own motions, a tentative hand reaching up to brush your fingers over his chin, soft stubble greeting your touch. 

“Yeah.” He mumbled, nudging his chin further into the palm of your hand until you were cupping his cheek, thumb swiping lightly against his cheekbone, before retracting your hand and using it to tug the covers closer to your chin.

Even the broach of the topic on both your minds was enough to feel uncharacteristically shy in his presence. Strangely, it felt intimate, leaving you feeling somewhat vulnerable and sheepish.

“You first.” 

His face broke into a small smile at your comment, and you rolled your eyes at his teasing laughter.

“Okay,” he started, laughter dying out as a hint of seriousness bled into his tone, “I want kids. Plural. I mean, I think I’ve always known I wanted them, but now I’m at an age where it’s…I’m not a teenager anymore, I’m not immune to being broody. And I guess after today, seeing you with those girls got me thinking about us in the future, and I do want kids. With you.” He pursed his lips, looking at you with hopeful eyes, before nodding.

Your turn.

You swallowed, heart pounding a little at his admission, “I…” you sucked in a breath, nerves having skyrocketed completely, “I’d never really thought about having my own children before, I guess because I’d always just thought I’d be happy with my life with or without having them – like, I wouldn’t feel like something was missing if I never had kids, y’know?” 

He nodded, listening intently.

“That being said, recently – and not just today – I don’t know, I think you’ve changed my mind.”

He furrowed his brows, “Me?”

You nodded, “And your mom and sister. You come from such a loving family, and…” you sighed, frustrated, “I don’t know how to say it, but I think if I was with any other person, the idea of kids wouldn’t be so appealing, but because it’s you, having children half you and half me just seems like an absolute dream.” You took a breath, “And it’s not just because I kind of knew you already wanted kids even though you didn’t actually say it, but I came to that decision by myself.”

Tyson smiled properly this time, teeth and everything, with creases appearing on the corner of his eyes. You felt yourself furrow your brows, thoroughly confused with his blatant joy and lack of words, not entirely knowing what to do or what to say.

“Say something.” You urged, his warm palm landing on your back as he used the leverage to pull you closer, coaxing you to drape a leg across his hip as he breathed a laugh.

“Holy shit, you’re so in love with me it’s actually kind of embarrassing.” You could practically feel him roll his eyes as he moved onto his back, pulling you with him so he could wrap an arm around your shoulders and weave his hand in your hair, pulling it away from your face.

“Excuse m–”

“But that’s okay, y’know. I’m also embarrassingly in love with you too, so it’s not that bad.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your temple, but before he could continue you pushed yourself up onto your elbow, his arm dropping to our waist.

“That’s not the end of this conversatio–”

“Even more so now than, like, five minutes ago.” He interrupted, eyes focused on the ceiling with a dopey grin on his face.

You didn’t know if he was even aware of the fact you were talking, or if he was stuck in his own head, imagining your children–

“You mean when I told you that I wanted to have your babies and your babies only?” You teased, poking him in the cheek.

This time it was evident that he’d heard you because his eyes rolled into his head and he dragged both hands away from you and ran them down his face, groaning out loud. You laughed at his reaction, his hands tangling into his curls as though even the sight of you was too much for him at that moment, “My heart can’t take this,” he shook his head, “you’re killing me, woman. I honestly think I can’t love you more, and then you say shit like that and it just makes me want to propose on the spot.”

You felt your cheeks burn instantaneously at that confession, and you tilted your head, eyes wide, “It makes you want to what now?”

He blinked, “Um–”

“You can’t get shy on me now, Tys.”

“Like you haven’t been thinking about it either.” He said with full conviction as he too pushed himself onto his elbows, the both of you now essentially sat up in bed, covers pooling around your middle.

You shrugged coyly, “I–This has nothing to do with me, I was asking you.”

His eyes were wide, a smile on his face despite the disbelieving scoff that passed his lips, “I didn’t think it was a secret that I’m gonna marry you at some point in the future.”

You stuttered, mouth opening and shutting. He was right, it wasn’t exactly a secret as such, what with both your families and friends making jokes and whatnot, but…it was different hearing it come from his mouth. In confidence.

So, you switched it up a little, “Before or after children?”

He froze, this time it was his turn to stutter, “What?”

“Marriage. Before or after children?” 

He straightened, tilting his head with some amusement, “That depends on when you want to come off birth control, sweetheart.”

If you weren’t so suddenly awake, you’d have stalled at his words, at the sweet yet condescending way he used the term of endearment reserved only for you. But your brain was going a mile a minute, and you were way too fired up to even consider letting him leave you speechless. 

“We’re twenty-two, I don’t want kids yet for at least another couple of years. Twenty-five, maybe. It might change depending on whether or not you propose, though.”

The challenge was there, laid out in the open for him – you’d put the ball in his court pretty much. Whether or not you’d change your mind if he did propose was another thing altogether, but you had no preference.

“Change how?” He shot back.

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see, yeah?” You raised a brow.

He blinked, that irritating smirk still on his face. Your fingers itched to snatch the pillow next to you and whack him with it, but you refrained, waiting patiently for an answer.

“Yes, ma’am.” He muttered, sarcastically.

You rolled your eyes, throwing yourself back on the mattress with a dramatic flair. Tyson copied you, still using his elbow to hover over you with that grin still on his face, “Cheeky bastard.”

He winked, “Your cheeky bastard though. The cheeky bastard you want to have children with – wait, how many do you want?”

You inhaled, taking him in. He’d worn a soft black t-shirt to bed, one that, now as he hovered over you, just seemed to make him look so incredibly, deliciously broad. The kind of good-looking that had you debating whether or not to retract your previous statement of having your implant taken out in another three years. 

Though, with the one you’d just had put in, you’d be twenty-five when you’d have to replace it…you could just not. 

“Two to three.” You said, “One would be lonely, and four would be too much. Depends how the first one goes, too.”

He nodded, something on the tip of his tongue, but thought better of it, instead leaning down (thus, taking you by surprise given the previous nature of the conversation) and planting a slow kiss on your lips. He pulled away slightly, a smile on his face, his hair tickling your forehead, “You were so just checking me out, weren’t you?”

You shook your head, a hand on the back of his neck pulling him back into you to avoid answering the question.

He laughed, resting his forehead on yours for a moment before something seemed to occur to him, “Are you fussy about what we’d have?”

“No, I’d just like one of each at least. What about you?” You swiped his hair back, watching in delight when his curls flopped back over his forehead.

“Same as you.” 

Another kiss.

“You never said how many you wanted.” You pointed out, fingers once more grazing against his cheeks.

Maybe you’d underestimated the power of being broody, because after what you’d witnessed it was like a switch had been flicked in your brain because you could not stop touching him. 

He collapsed into his shoulder, forcing you to turn your head to keep your eyes on him, “Two or three. I think you’re right about the four kid thing, though. I couldn’t have imagined growing up with two more siblings on top of Kacey.”

“Even the thought of four kids is exhausting.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Speaking of exhaustion…” you muttered, stifling a yawn with the back of your hand.

Accomplished. That’s how you felt having that incredibly mature (it had its moments) and very adult conversation. 

You’d essentially just planned the next five years with the man next to you, and although the thought of having kids and everything that would entail — should it happen — was terrifying, it felt right.

You’d switched off the bedside lamp and rolled over towards the middle of the bed when something else occurred to you; a rogue idea you’d had once that had seemingly flashed back up once you’d shut your eyes, “When you grow a pair and propose, I’d like it if you wear a ring too. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy if you don’t want, maybe like one of those titanium ones.”

He shuffled, and you could hear the smirk in his voice as he looked back at you, “Possessive much?” 

You shrugged, “We’re engaged to each other, I don’t know why only women typically wear the rings…and there’s no harm in sending a hint.”

Tyson hummed, “Whatever you say.”

That entire conversation had been three years ago. You’d had your implant removed and not replaced around five months ago…and you’d not exactly been careful during sex because ‘it’ll happen when it happens’, only it happened. You’d talked about it happening early, enough to the point that you’d done your research and prepped everything in terms of checking finances, but it didn’t mean you weren’t…shocked.

There was just simply nothing that could prepare you for the actual moment.

Nor, it seemed, seeing Tyson after everything that had happened. You’d been holding everything in, the fear, the shock – not just of the pregnancy, but the whole fainting debacle, and getting a blood test and being seen to by multiple doctors all by yourself. Sabine had dropped you off and waited with you in the ER waiting area but that had been the extent of it; she’d had to go pick up her kids from her sister’s or something, and…something else you couldn’t quite remember.

But you’d heard him before you’d seen him, and then the door to your room was opening, a nurse walking through first and offering you a knowing smile before he’d all but barrelled through the doorway, somewhat frazzled. You’d been sitting with your legs slung off the side of the bed when you heard him ask for you at the desk, and almost instantaneously his eyes had zeroed in on the cotton wool ball now screwed up next to you.

“I’m fine–” The words died in your throat when he immediately wrapped you in a warm hug, moving to stand between your dangling legs with one arm wrapped around your waist, his left hand curled around the base of your neck and your face tucked into the curve of his neck.

The coolness of the ring on his hand soothed you somewhat, but as soon as the door shut and the nurse left, you lifted your arms to hug him across his back, sniffling wetly as the tears began to accumulate along your waterline.

“Hey, hey, shh, shh, it’s okay,” his hand rubbed up and down your back, and he pulled away slightly, running a thumb under your eyes to wipe the tears away before they could fall, “you’re okay–”

“I just–I’ve never fainted before,” you took a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself, eyes watery and blurring your view of him, “It just took me by surprise, and I don’t know…it was scary.” You let out a watery and rather self-deprecating laugh, taking a deep breath and running your hands over your face to remove the evidence of tears, bar red cheeks and puffy eyes.

Tyson said nothing, simply ran his hands over the tops of your thighs as he waited patiently for you to calm down. In all honesty, he’d never really seen you have an emotional outburst like that – no matter how short. Sure, he’d seen you cry; your childhood dog was put down in your first year together and he’d held you in Colorado, hundreds of miles away from your own home; he’d seen you cry for him (however much you tried to hide the few loose tears) when everything went down with Minnesota; he’d seen you cry over the ‘heartfelt, charming’ film you’d put on one day (‘Red Dog’, it was called) that destroyed both your souls; and he’d helped you through grief, from the days you’d need space to the days you’d just need him to sit with you.

But never in your entire relationship had he seen you cry from terror, let alone such a cathartic release of emotion. He’d heard your wobbly voice crack over the phone and done his best to try to take your mind off it, but he knew by the way you’d just barely held it together at the mere sight of him that there was something amiss. 

“I know it’s scary, sweetheart, when you told me, I was scared too. It’s a completely normal reaction, okay?” He was talking softly, neck bent slightly so he could look at you, and his fingers tenderly swiped some of your flyaways back from where they’d escaped from your updo.

You ached at his compassion, the gentle touches and sneaking glances at your arm, and at the thought of him looking after your baby like that almost sent you down another emotional spiral, but you straightened slightly, trying a small smile no matter how it wobbled.

“I’ve never cried like that before.” Was all you said, a watery laugh falling from your lips just as he nodded.

“I know.” He offered a small smile, “Bet it felt good, though.”

“Cathartic.” You agreed.

“Today’s been pretty hectic for you, huh?” 

Oh, he had no idea. 

This time you smiled properly, eyes and lashes still wet as he passed you a tissue from the box next to the bed, you dabbing under your eyes.

“Yeah.” You inhaled through your nose once more, expelling out of your mouth, “I’m so tired. When we get home can we camp out on the couch?”

He smiled, crinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes, “You’re insane if you think I’d let you do anything else after today.” You rolled your eyes at that, not having the heart to argue with him, “How’re you feeling now? Faint? Light-headed?” 

“No, I feel fine now. Do I look okay?” You scrunched up the tissue, throwing it in the bin, only to look back at Tyson, who was still standing between your legs and was arching a brow in your direction, his hands having moved from your body to come to rest on his own hips.

“You look stunning. You always do.” He deadpanned, thumbs caressing your cheeks before he leaned forward, you meeting him halfway in a delicate kiss.

“You have to say that.” 

“I don’t have to say anything. I could tell you look horrible, but then I’d be lying, and breaking our vows–”

“We’re not married.”

“Yet.”

“We’ve both got rings but nothing is actually official–”

“Let me have this one, please.”

“I just fainted, you let me have this one.” You complained, throwing your head back in his grip, hand instinctively going up to hold his wrist when he leaned in for another short kiss.

“Only because I love you.”

You rolled your eyes, “Fucking hell, you’re really gullible–”

“You just fainted, my so-called gullibility is reasonable.”

“Whatever. In all seriousness, though, does it look like I’ve been crying?” You pointed at your eyes, knowing they’d be red-rimmed and still a little watery after that, and he winced slightly.

“Yes.” 

You sighed, dropping your head, “You know what, I don’t even care anymore. I just want to go home.”

Tyson nodded, “Is everything sorted out with the doctors?”

“I have a follow-up appointment in a few days–”

“I thought it wasn’t serious?” His voice did that thing it did earlier, right after you’d told him you’d fainted. It went up, both in pitch and harshness, and there was a crease between his brows and a frown playing at his lips.

Said follow-up was actually a dating scan, your first ultrasound to make sure everything’s healthy and whatnot, but in the meantime you’d decided you wanted to tell him outside of a placeless hospital room surrounded by strangers.

Oddly enough it was Father’s Day in two days. Technically his first one, too.

You’d decided on his way to pick you up that that’s when you’d tell him, and you could keep a secret from him that long.

“It’s not serious, but because of the low blood pressure they just need to make sure it was a one-time thing.” You waved a hand, ignoring his gaze as you jumped off the bed, moving to pick up your backpack on the chair.

The handle of the tennis racket was poking out the top, taunting you (even despite the mess of emotion swimming around you right now, you were still kind of bummed you missed out on that), but before you could even bend down to pick it up, a very familiar hand reached out and snatched it up before  you, his black titanium ring glinting under the lights as he swung it over his shoulder.

“Can I come with you to that appointment?” He asked, holding his hand out for you to grab, innocently pretending to ignore the glare you were sending his way.

“Sure.” You nodded, feigning nonchalance, as though you hadn’t purposefully booked the appointment on the day you knew he didn’t have any plans.

***

Father’s Day, despite having only been two days away, came incredibly quickly. It felt like you’d barely blinked before you were sneaking out of bed in the morning to make Tyson some tea and breakfast.

You’d kept the breakfast simple, just a couple of slices of toast and jam, as well as some extras for you because you couldn’t risk him wandering downstairs and ruining his own surprise. The card you’d picked out with assistance from Kacey over FaceTime was in your bedside drawer, but it was the mug that was important, too.

Weirdly enough it was absolutely the right amount of subtle for a quiet announcement. It was a handmade mug, a dainty, cream thing with words pressed onto the inside base, so when he’d finish his tea the words ‘WE’RE PREGNANT!’ would be visible at the bottom. The plan was, you’d decided, to wait for him to nearly finish his tea, and then hand him the card, so that way the card thing would be fool-proof, but also partly because you were way too nervous to actually tell him yourself using actual words out of your own mouth.

You’d thought about what his reaction might be, but given the fact that he’d practically buzzed with eagerness after you’d asked him if it’d be okay with him if you didn’t get your implant replaced, and the fact that every time you went out for a foodshop he’d get lost and coincidentally be found in the baby clothes section, you’d say he’d probably have a pretty enthusiastic reaction.

Kacey had tried to bet $20 he’d cry, but given the fact that you also agreed with her, she’d dropped it completely.

You took a deep breath, straightening the plate on the tray to calm your nerves, your engagement ring getting caught in the light coming in from the window. It glittered, iridescent colours dancing against the cupboards, and it was at that moment that you realised you’d have to make adjustments to the wedding planning.

“Marriage. Before or after children?”

Looked like that one was still up in the air.

The quiet tiptoe up the stairs carrying a wobbling tray was one mean challenge and a half, especially considering the fact that you couldn’t see your feet and you were also trying to avoid any creaking floorboards.

You nudged the bedroom door open with your foot, peeking around the corner and cheering internally when you saw Tyson was still face down on his pillow, arms above his head, shoulders and back muscles prominent.

You paused, unable to help biting your lip at the view.

Fuck, you hoped your kids would have his hair.

You didn’t bother shutting the door behind you, making your way around to your side of the bed, the shadows from your figure blocking the light from the window causing Tyson to blink slowly at the interruption.

“Good morning.” You hummed, putting the tray on the floor and leaning across the mattress and gently pressing a kiss against his lips, quickly removing yourself before he had the chance to pull you any closer.

You heard a grunt of disapproval before he yawned audibly, arms stretching up from where you’d crouched on the floor to pick up his tea and toast.

“Morning.” He groaned, pushing himself to sit as you placed his toast on his bedside table and handed him his tea, his ring clinking against the porcelain.

Before you could walk back to your side, his free hand caught yours, gently tugging you towards him, a confused and bleary expression still on his face, “Did I forget something?”

You shook your head, kissing him once more when he puckered his lips in your direction, and he nodded, seemingly satisfied with your answer before taking a sip of his tea and twirling the lone diamond ring on your finger before letting you go.

From the way you could feel his eyes burning into you when you climbed back into bed, your own breakfast in your hands, you thought maybe he’d caught on to something. That maybe he’d figured something was up to warrant a rare ‘breakfast in bed’.

“I just woke up earlier than usual, couldn’t wait for you to wake up.” Was all you said, hoping it’d suffice for now.

He nodded again, this time taking a bite of his toast, “How come you woke up early?”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. You knew avoiding eye contact would be suspicious but if it was even more intense he’d definitely know something was up, “Just did.”

His chewing seemed to slow, and he furrowed his brows, “Are you feeling okay?”

You swallowed, anxiety levels slowly beginning to creep up, “Yeah, why?”

“You look flustered, is all.”

You pulled a face, “In what way?”

“I don’t know, you just—Are you not telling me something?” He was nervous now, his eyes wider than usual as he washed down his toast with a gulp of tea.

You held your breath as he did so, expecting him to look inside the mug but he stubbornly kept his eyes on you, assessing every square inch of your face like the apparent secret he was accusing you of was written there.

“Did you break something?” He brought the mug to rest on top of the covers on his lap, his spare hand playing apprehensively with his bottom lip.

You couldn’t help it when you laughed at him, “No.”

He still didn’t look convinced, and you found his confusion adorably endearing in that moment.

Until your phone dinged on your bedside table. Then, his expression narrowed, a hint of a smile curling at his mouth as you blatantly ignored it.

“Don’t you want to know who’s messaging you at nine on a Sunday morning?” He teased, placing his mug on his bedside table as he scooted further into the middle of the bed, purposefully crowding into your space.

You hid your face in your mug, tapping your fingers against the porcelain and attempting to hide the smile that had suddenly appeared on your face as he not-so-subtly manoeuvred his arm over your shoulder. There was a scuffle of fingertips against the surface of the table, and you saw him frown out of the corner of your eye, scruff just grazing your forehead as he looked over your head, successfully snatching up your phone.

He made no move to look at the home screen notification, instead just picking it up and planting it on your lap without a care.

You rolled your eyes, faking a dramatic sigh at his insisting, “I already know who’s texting me.”

At that he stalled, head tilting as he used the hand on your shoulder to tangle and play with your hair, “Who?”

You blinked, giving in and picking up your phone, ignoring his watchful eyes, “Kacey.”

“Kacey?” He echoed, “My Kacey?”

“Yeah.” You placed your mug and plate on the table, giving your phone your full attention.

“Why is Kacey texting you?” He rested his chin on your shoulder, breath fanning softly across your neck in a huff as you switched your phone off, not allowing him to read the messages, which – even taken out of context – were rather incriminating.

“Because we’re friends.” You shut your eyes to avoid being poked in the face by your own hair as he purposefully raked it over your face as he removed his hand from your shoulder.

“Obviously,” he drawled, rolling his eyes, “But you’re being weird.”

You sighed, throwing your phone to the end of the bed and giving him your full attention. 

He’d caught on already, before either of you had even finished breakfast. It was earlier than you’d initially planned for, but with the kicked puppy/borderline worried expression on his face as he fiddled with his ring and waited for you to ease his mind, you felt yourself soften. 

“Is it about the hospital thing?” He murmured, pursing his lips as though to brace himself for something bad.

His head was hung, but he was still looking at you, “Yes.” You held his hand, stopping the alarmed expression that had instantly taken hold of him, “But it’s nothing bad, I swear. I’m gonna get you something, but can you drink some more tea?”

You neglected to throw him a reassuring look, too focused on the task at hand, but bargained on the fact that he’d drink the tea like before: his eyes carefully trained on you as he took a few gulps to ease his nerves.

Your fingers caught the edge of the card, pulling it out of the drawer and slamming it shut to turn and face a severely anxious Tyson. His jaw was clenched and his fingers were tapping on the mug you’d given him.

When you produced the envelope, however, the tension in his jaw seemed to slacken, the unease melting into uncertainty – it only seemed to magnify when you, with shaking hands, passed it to him. 

He swallowed, the curve of his neck bobbing slightly, “It’s got my name on it.”

Your lip caught between your teeth for a moment (you absolutely tried to quell the rising agitation within yourself watching him, but it was partly a losing game), other hand offering to take the tea from his hand. 

He took the card from you gently, gladly letting you take his almost empty mug (you drank the rest of it, able to see the writing at the bottom), and held your breath in anticipation.

He untucked the lip of the envelope, gently sliding the card out. 

You’d put it backwards, the front design hidden from his eyes unless he turned it over, and waited. Your eyes briefly flickered to his shirtless chest. He was breathing a little heavier than usual, predictably from the nerves because you’d left him in the dark about something important, and you knew if you placed your palm over his chest his heart would be hammering.

He went to turn the card over, but stopped, his brown eyes flickering to you, “Why am I scared?”

You smiled, patience wearing thin, “Just turn it over.”

He inhaled deeply, flicking the card over.

He blinked.

The card you’d picked was pretty simple – on the front there was one acronym: DILF. It wasn’t in large letters either, about 96% of the entire front was blank, and there was a single full stop at the end. 

The message was pretty clear, you thought, but after about ten seconds of Tyson’s silence, his mouth repeating the word over and over, a slight crease on his forehead, perhaps from either denial or confusion, you’d concluded that he wasn’t completely grasping the message.

You remained quiet, heart hammering almost painfully against your ribs.

“DILF.” He muttered, opening the card, mouth parting in shock at the slip of paper that fell out onto his lap.

He made a move to pick up the paper, sending you a glance that had you thinking maybe he’d got a brief idea of what you were intending, but not let himself get too hopeful until he was properly sure.

Sure as if it came from your mouth, or sure as in a copy of your blood test results from two days ago in his hand with the words ‘pregnant’ scribbled on the receipt in your handwriting.

He froze, tensing on the bed. He seemed to blink a few times, before inhaling sharply, arms lip at his side and head swung in your direction, “I’m pregnant?” He breathed shakily, and you bit back a soft smile at the tears already glistening on his lash line and a slight quiver in his chin.

And at his muddled words you breathed a laugh, but before you could even move to confirm his accusation, he was shaking his head, “I mean, y…you’re pregnant?” 

You felt your own eyes prick, “Yeah.” You sniffled, curling into the pillow under your head from where you’d sunk back under the duvet when you’d given him the card. 

You showed him the mug, and like a snapped elastic band, as soon as he read the words imprinted there, dropped the receipt onto his lap and covered his face with his hands, shoulders shaking. Your reaction was delayed in itself – you’d expected him to be a little emotional given how excited he’d been at the mere thought of being a dad, but not to the uncontrollable sobbing extent.

After you put the mug back down on the side of the bed, you wasted no time in positioning yourself on his lap, gently taking a hold of his wrists and pulling them away from his face. His eyes were rimmed red and a little puffy, cheeks wet with tears, but he wasn’t frowning. There was a wobbly smile on his face that seemed to twitch every now and again and when you wiped his cheeks dry, unable to suppress your own grin, he seemed to calm down.

He wasn’t hiccupping anymore, but his breathing was a little heavy and his cheeks rosy.

“I’m glad I didn’t tell you when you were standing up.” You teased, brushing his hair back with your hand.

“Me too.” He sniffled, looking up at you through damp lashes and a watery gaze.

“Are you okay?”

“I should be asking you that.” 

You tilted your head adoringly, “I’m not the one currently crying.”

He nodded, agreeing, “We’re really lucky. Some people wait years to get here, or for some people it just doesn’t happen, and I’m just so grateful, I…” he trailed off, eyes looking straight up at the ceiling to blink away a fresh bout of tears.

“It’s okay to cry.” You mumbled, sliding your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a tight hug as he sniffled again, his hands on your lower back, pressing you into him as close as he could. His uneven breaths tickled your neck, and one of your arms draped across his back, tracing lines against his skin in the soothing manner he likes.

After a couple of minutes, breathing back to normal and tears at bay, he pulled back, a question on his lips as, once more, you wiped away his tears, “When did you find out?”

You were so fucking in love with this man. Gone. Ruined. Whatever. 

Before you could even consider answering, he pushed himself further down the headboard, taking you with him as he placed his head on his pillow, pulling the duvet over your bodies and enveloping you both in a cocoon of warmth entirely too hot for mid-June.

“It was actually when I was in the hospital the other day. The hormones changes from the pregnancy made me faint, but it wasn’t until the bloodwork came back that I found out.”  He nodded, rolling you onto your side to look at you easier. His hand came up to the joint of your hip, rubbing back and forth as he listened intently.

“What was your reaction?” 

“I didn’t really have one until I saw you walk in to pick me up.” 

His brows quirked up at that, mouth curling into a smug smile, “That’s pretty romantic.”

You rolled your eyes, “You were fine with this,” you motioned between you both, “until you looked at me, and then you also cried – twice – so you can’t even think about–”

He silenced you with a sweet kiss, scruff tickling your chin, “I love you so much.”

“I know.” 

He rolled his eyes, “Can the fainting thing happen again, or was it just a one time thing?”

You shrugged, as much as you could given the close quarters you were both in, “Guess we’ll have to ask them tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” 

“The ‘follow-up appointment’ is actually a dating scan to see how far along we are.”

At this he breathed a laugh, “We have too much sex–”

“No such thing.” You denied, shaking your head vehemently, “It’s not my fault you look so gorgeous all the damn time–”

“Baby,” he groaned, it melting into a soft laugh, “you should look in the fucking mirror–”

“This flirting is exactly why we’re in this situation in the first place.”

“I can’t help it though.” 

You briefly turned around, fingers finding your phone by the side of your bed, “You’re gonna have to because you need to call Kacey and tell her you blubbered like a fucking baby–”

“Hey–”

“She wanted to put $20 on it–”

“You bet on me crying?”

“No, she wanted to but…” you winced, “I agreed, so.”

“You’re supposed to side with me–”

“I’m making you a Dad, just remember that.”

He blinked, pursing his lips to prevent himself from laughing at your deadpan tone. You were both joking, but at your last comment, a silence seemed to stretch between you, both of you really absorbing the truth to your words.

Tyson’s eyes seemed to soften, looking at you like a man most definitely in love, and he made a noise that seemed to come from the back of his throat, “We’re gonna be parents.” He grinned, almost wistfully, “I…”

“I know.” You passed him the phone, Kacey’s contact already lined up for him, “It doesn’t feel real.”

He shook his head, kissing you once more and taking the phone out of your hand.

It barely took five seconds before Kacey’s excited voice burst through the phone.

#tyson jost x reader #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost oneshot #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

MARTHA'S IS PRETTY ROMANTIC - CHAPTER THREE: THE HEART WANTS WHAT THE HEART WANTS

summary: “If you haven’t understood by now that I like you as more than a friend, then I don’t even think I can help you to understand what’s going on.”

warnings: 18+ themes (not full smut), confrontation/arguments, awkwardness, swearing, angst, fluff, vague injury description

word count: 12k

previous part | series masterlist

For some reason, it was the thudding of a door shutting downstairs that seemed to wake you; judging from the golden light peeking through the gap in the curtains, you guessed it was still pretty early. With a sigh and a yawn, you reckoned it was probably Tyson heading out for his morning run.

Except, when you tentatively reached a hand across the mattress, eyes shutting all too easily as you were grasped tightly in the clutches of fatigue, there was an unexpected warmth radiating from quite close to where you were laid. Your hand halted its movement, eyes flying open as you twisted around in bed, nearly coming face to face with a sleeping Tyson, whose head was resting on the very edge of his own pillow, one of his arms tucked under yours.

You froze, heart stuttering and mind immediately recalling the conversation you’d had the day prior when you’d told him you’d at least like to wake up and have him in the bed at some point, awake or not, instead of facing an empty room and a severe lack of his presence.

Though, his presence now must mean that it was Mat and Toni that had left for breakfast.

You reached back to your side of the bed, tapping the screen of your phone. It was half-nine, which could mean a variety of things relating to Tyson: that he finally managed to get used to the foreign bed, or that he’d previously been setting alarms to get up earlier and continue his routine from back home.

Either way, you weren’t complaining, not when he looked so criminally soft. You turned on your back, phone remaining clutched in your hand, not able to turn your eyes away from him quite yet. His curls were crazier than you’d ever seen them, a combination of sleeping and going to bed with his hair wet meaning they weren’t in the same even pattern you were so used to seeing on a daily basis. There was a gentle crease in the middle of his forehead, as though he was concentrating on something in a dream. And, like he said, he’d neglected to wear a shirt: toned arms and a shoulder greeted you from where the sheet had failed to cover most of his torso, skin a little browner than it had been when you’d first arrived.

But before your brain could even contemplate thinking he looked quite handsome like that, something in your mind seemed to flicker at the reminder of the tense atmosphere from last night, and with that, you quickly hauled yourself out of bed, carefully trying not to disturb the covers too much, and crept downstairs.

He probably didn’t want to see you anyway.

And it was how Tyson found you half an hour later: curled under a blanket on the sofa, midway through a glass of juice and watching whatever was on TV.

You’d turned the volume down when he entered, still blinking away the last remnants of tiredness and sleep, his eyes immediately catching onto you as he wandered into the kitchen, acknowledging you with a tight smile.

It wasn’t genuine, if anything it was a little bit forced, and you knew you only had yourself to blame. Leaving Jamie’s number in Tyson’s jacket pocket wasn’t something that had felt detrimental when you’d done it at the time (you hadn’t wanted to lose it, and you never intended to forget it was there altogether), but now it just seemed to have completely reversed any and all progress the two of you had made. 

If anything, this tenseness took you back to before you were friends. Awkward conversations and tiptoeing around each other because you weren’t quite comfortable in each other’s presence yet.

Only now, it was the complete opposite.

The silence remained until he took a seat in the armchair, as far away from you as he possibly could have gotten without entering another room, when he took a sip of his own glass, “Have Mat and Toni left already?”

His voice was thick, a little croaky and you had to fight with yourself to prevent a blush on your cheeks.

(You’d never admit it, but his morning voice was shockingly erotic.)

“Yeah.” You replied, swallowing harshly when he pulled his eyes from you and turned his attention to the TV as soon as it was clear you’d done talking. There was no lingering look, and with a stab of hurt and a little desperation rooted through a fear that he’d slip away and you’d lose him over a misunderstanding you weren’t quite sure how to correct without implying something else, it felt like he couldn’t even look at you, “Do you want to get brunch?”

Your voice felt frail and it didn’t take a genius to note the biting anxiety in your tone, because Tyson snapped his head towards you, his eyes softening fractionally at the expression on your face. He seemed to consider the offer for a moment, and with every moment that he didn’t answer, you felt the crack in your chest ache and widen, hope dwindling massively.

“Sure.” He sighed eventually.

The same tension that prompted prolonged and uncharacteristic silences seemed to infect the entirety of bruch. Neither of you said anything, choosing instead to shovel forkfuls of food into your mouths in an attempt to give a reason not to talk to each other.

It wasn’t until Tyson had silently led the both of you to walk back to the house along the beach that you decided to say something. It wasn’t anything pertaining to the matter of the both of you, but rather the almost concerned way he was eyeing his phone screen as he walked, fingers furiously tapping away at the keyboard.

Your arms were crossed against your chest, and the breeze from the shore was whipping your hair everywhere, and you reached for the hair tie in your jacket pocket, your motions distracting Tyson for a moment.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, not really holding out much hope for him to answer what with how quiet he’d been all morning thus far, but once you’d gestured at the phone in his hand, he nodded, a little sheepish.

“Yeah, I just–” He waved his phone half-heartedly, stopping in his tracks as he looked to you, “My mom wants a photo of us, and I’m trying to tell her–”

“It’s fine with me.” You interrupted, sticking your hands in your jacket pockets, trying and failing to not seem like you weren’t jumping at the opportunity to at least engage in a semi-normal dynamic.

“Are you sure?” He asked after a brief pause, eyes sincere but still clearly hesitating – as though he wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to do or not do. If you were more honest with yourself, you’d have no issue admitting that it broke your heart a little, but in that moment, you ignored those thoughts.

“I’m sure.” You nodded, turning back to the water, “Get the ocean in the background, quick, before someone walks through behind us.” You found your hand reaching out to grasp his forearm without even thinking too much about it, manoeuvring him to stand next to you whilst he cleared his throat.

You hadn’t even realised the magnitude of what you’d done until the tingling in your fingertips seemed to warm your entire hand, and your neck snapped in Tyson’s direction, who was staring at your flexing hand and not bothering to hide the sheer look of perplexity at your action.

You felt your cheeks redden, and you gestured to his phone, “Sorry.” Your apology was a little weak, and you knew Tyson could see right through your little white lie.

“It’s okay.” He shrugged, swallowing nervously, “Do I look good?”

You blinked, about to answer honestly (that’s what he wanted, right?), but he seemed to catch himself.

“Good enough for a selfie, that is.” He clarified, his own cheeks now splashing rouge.

And although things were tense and a little up in the air, you couldn’t help the smile that seemed to appear on your face at his stuttering. You nodded, reigning it in, “A little windswept and rosy-cheeked, but your mom’ll definitely find it more adorable than scruffy.” You paused, acknowledging the rather shy duck of his head, “What about me?”

His head zipped back up, eyes searching your face with meaningful intent (though Tyson did take the opportunity to just simply look at you without the danger of getting caught), “Yeah, you look good.” Your brows shot up in blatant shock, and almost as soon as he’d finished talking, you knew he’d immediately backpedal on himself, “For the photo.” 

You nodded, teeth catching your bottom lip as you fought the irresistible urge to tease him or laugh or something…but one thing that had wrestled itself to the forefront of your mind was the desire to kiss him then. It was simple, if a little too simple: all you’d have had to do was lean a little bit closer. 

But before you could even entertain that idea, reasons not to kiss him came flooding in, the main one being that right now, it would do way more harm than good.

It seemed Tyson wanted to get the photo taken as soon as humanly possible, because it was barely ten seconds later that he was shooting off the photo to his mom and the awkward, tense atmosphere had returned as you both walked side by side along the beach.

Your jaw was clenched the entire walk back, mind whirling and seemingly incapable of being quiet. His silent treatment was actually kind of pissing you off now. You’d sat and suffered through three hours of it, and although you knew he could be stubborn at the worst of times, he was pushing it.

You’d been watching him out of the corner of your eye all day, holding your breath when you thought he was about to say something or look your way, but each time he’d shown signs of maybe doing that – of actually bringing it all up – he’d furrowed his brows as though to give himself a pep-talk or something, and turned the other way completely.

You’d have been fine with his silence if he hadn't been verging on ignoring you the entire morning – that was where you drew the line. But it was becoming clear with every time he caught himself acknowledging you, that he had absolutely no intention of ever talking about it.

And somewhere between the photo on the beach and making it back to the house, the door shutting behind you, your patience had dwindled almost dangerously low – teetering on snapping altogether. You followed him through the house, not sure if he knew you were on his heels – or once more, he was just simply choosing to ignore your presence.

You halted at the kitchen island, palms flat against the marble, watching him as he threw open the back door before his eyes slipped over you, no apparent shock written on his features.

He still said nothing as he made for the fridge, and you sighed when the door opened, blocking you from each other. Whether it was the breeze from the open door or the fridge that seemed to settle a chill over you, you couldn’t possibly have guessed because your attention was – as you were finding it a lot lately – stolen by Tyson.

“So,” you started, but he didn’t even acknowledge your voice this time, prompting a roll of your eyes and a rather stern, “Are you okay?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, peeling an orange straight into the bin, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you’ve been ignoring me all morning–”

“I haven’t been ignoring you.” He insisted, looking up from his orange with a mildly offended look on his face.

“Okay,” You breathed, not necessarily agreeing with him, but rather switching the angle you’d go from, “Then you’ve been quiet all morning, and that’s not like you at all. Something’s up.”

He shut the bin, placing his unpeeled orange on the counter and mirroring your body language, his palms flat against the marble and elbows locked, “How would you know?”

You stared unblinkingly for a brief moment, a pause not too long but long enough for Tyson to raise an accusing eyebrow. Only, you weren’t quite sure what he was accusing you of, “Because I know you probably better than most people.”

He huffed a bitter laugh at your words, eliciting a frown to form on your face, and the sore lack of humour seemed to strike a nerve within you. It was so unlike him you couldn’t help but wonder what you’d done to offend him to this extent.

As far as you were aware, you hadn’t even done anything wrong because Tyson had never actually said or done anything to even suggest he liked you in the way you liked him, and because of that your apparent ‘flirting’ debacle with Jamie was completely fine. In fact, when you thought about it, it was Tyson who’d put an end to the flirting thing; Tyson who’d reacted to most of your flirty comments by shutting them down or turning them into a  friend-thing, and whether he was choosing to ignore your comments or just downright oblivious to your advances, you were stuck.

“Don’t kid yourself.” He said, shaking his head and looking at the countertop, avoiding your eyes completely.

You sighed, frustration beginning to press at your temples and send your heart rate skyrocketing, “Fine, I don’t know you well, then.” You couldn’t disguise the disappointment in your voice, no matter how hard you tried, “Why have you been quiet all morning?”

He swallowed, gaze sharper and a little less soft than he usually was when he met your eyes, “I’m just tired.”

Well. There was nothing you could say to that, not when he was so clearly not telling you the truth, not when he was being so fucking stubborn you couldn’t even get through to him. He was pissed and it was clearly simmering under his skin, a little too volatile for you to be around him, but before you could walk away and leave him be, you knew you had to at least have the upperhand. 

“Why–” He started, sighing before stopping to clench his jaw, “Why is it bothering you?”

“A few reasons.” You straightened, hands leaving the countertop to fold across your chest, “I don’t appreciate being ignored or lied to. You’ve been off since the restaurant last night, and instead of telling someone what’s wrong – because it’s so clear something is, even if you deny it – you’re bottling it up and, quite frankly, I feel like if I don’t at least ask you, you’ll just push me away, and I refuse to let you do that.”

He squinted his eyes, pulling a face and huffing in disbelief, “I’m not pushing you away.”

“Good.” You shrugged, “Because I refuse to lose you over some misunderstanding.”

He was silent, but he wasn’t looking away from you. If anything, his silence seemed to be some kind of admission – that you were right about something, and some of the tension seemed to ebb away. Slightly.

You swallowed, feeling your features soften as something seemed to prickle at the back of your mind. You felt nervous goosebumps rise on the back of your neck, and you knew if you didn’t bite the bullet now, then you’d probably not bring it up at all.

“Why did you tell Mat our relationship was complicated?” 

The silence was almost palpable, and with a simple question, the tension seemed to return immediately and tenfold what it just was. Tyson seemed to react instantaneously, and at first – judging from the sudden flush of his cheeks and the way he was shaking his head, you’d expected him to deny, deny, deny, just like he’d done at every question you’d posed in his direction within the past three minutes or so. 

His curls seemed to bounce slightly with his motions, and his lips parted in clear shock, “Mat shouldn’t have told you that.” Was all he settled for, a little sadly.

You inhaled sharply, feeling less hesitant when he didn’t seem to want to argue about it – after all, what was the point?

“It wasn’t Mat that told me, it was Toni.”

“Either way,” Tyson shrugged, “That was private.”

You blinked, “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” He echoed, brows raised in silent incredulousness.

“Look, it doesn’t matter whether it was private or not right now. It wasn’t meant for me to hear about, fine, but I have, and I want to know why our relatio—why you think we’re complicated.”

Tyson pursed his lips, gesturing to you, “Why do you want to know? Why is it such a big deal that you care what I think about our relationship?”

You’d never known him to be so stubborn. It had never taken you this much effort to get him to answer a question truthfully – and it wasn’t even as if you were being unreasonable in your asking him.

“Because ever since I found out that’s what you think, things have been complicated, and things have gone so completely downhill that it’s scaring me–”

“Or maybe since you found out, you’re just overthinking everything.” He interrupted, arching a challenging brow in your direction.

“Am I though?” You asked, nerves, adrenalin and a rather dangerous combination of a ‘fuck it’ attitude coursing through every cell in your body, right from the tips of your toes to the ends of your hair, “Because it didn’t seem like there was much to overthink last night when you put Jamie’s number on my bedside table and then had a strop in the bathroom.”

Tyson didn’t waste a single second, “I didn’t strop.”

“What, then, did you stub your toe?” You quipped, now scowling in his direction, “And before you answer that, please bear in mind that I can tell exactly when you’re lying.”

He paused, staring unblinkingly straight at you, a hardness to his jaw and you could tell he was gearing himself up to be defensive, but it seemed your words had some sort of effect because he rolled his eyes and threw his head to the ceiling for a second, letting out a frustrated sigh. When he swung back to look in your direction, there was something a little raw written across the planes and creases in his face.

“Fine.” He announced, pulling a stool out at the island, orange segments long forgotten. He glanced pointedly at the stool opposite, but you shook your head. You had too much nervous energy to even consider sitting still. A lap around the entire island seemed like it should have done the trick, but to do that you’d be walking out on a rather important conversation. 

He laced his hands together, forearms pressed tightly against the counter. You could almost imagine the cold seeping into the crevices of his skin, and knowing Tyson he’d probably find the cold soothing more than anything.

He took a rather shaky breath and a moment to compose himself before making direct eye contact with you. It was the way he looked at you that seemed to quieten the rushing in your head but did little to calm your pulse.

“I don’t like seeing you…” he hesitated, cheeks flushing, and although it looked like it took a great deal of effort to keep his eyes on you despite the difficulty of it, “flirt with other people.” He shook his head, as though he was a little ashamed by his words, “It hurts. And it really hurt when I found that guy's number folded up in my jacket pocket for me to find. I thought maybe you’d put it there on purpose…I don’t know.”

You inhaled, attempting to calm everything, “I know Jamie because we met in Vancouver at one of your games a while ago, and he did flirt…” Tyson’s shoulders slumped, “until he recognised me – not that I would have reciprocated it.”

“Then why do you have his number?” 

“He told me about a job opportunity; he owns a firm, and we got talking about work and it turned out he had an opening for a job closer to where I lived and also paid more. So he gave me his number for when I needed details.”

“And you left it in my pocket because…”

This time it was your turn to be sheepish, “I didn’t want it to get crumpled in my bag when you gave me your jacket and then I forgot about it…because I was thinking about why you didn’t tell that lady we weren’t together.” You spoke hesitantly, voice trailing off.

“Oh, well,” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “it was just easier than the truth.”

There was a pinprick of disappointment that started in your chest, but you refused to let it bleed into something more heartbreaking, “Which is?”

He suddenly appeared less unsure of himself at your question, “Fucking complicated, that’s what.”

You dropped your head into your hands, “But what about us was complicated when you told Mat that it was?”

“Are you pissed at me for saying that?” Was what left his mouth, a slight panicked expression on his face when you lifted your head out of your hands, shocked at where his mind had taken him.

“No, no. I’m not pissed at you, I’m just trying to understand.”

He nodded, swallowing, hands splayed against the marble, before he looked up at you, “If you haven’t understood by now that I like you as more than a friend, then I don’t even think I can help you to understand what’s going on.”

Time seemed to slow as your brain seemed to echo his words back at you, double speed: I like you as more than a friend.

That certainly hadn’t been what you’d expected to hear – not straight from his mouth and not so bluntly. Every time you’d ever approached a conversation about dating with Tyson, he seemed to clam up and give brief comments, perhaps a little embarrassed by the entire topic. Needless to say, what had just left his mouth, in full confidence, was a stark contrast to previous conversations.

And despite everything raging in your mind (Tyson’s admission definitely relating to around half of that), there was only one thing that seemed to jump to the forefront of your concern:

“You do?” The question left you before you could contain it, and you knew if Tyson hadn’t been so close already, barely an arms length away, he wouldn’t have heard it because you knew, without even catching onto the way he seemed to lean closer as though he almost missed it, that you were a little breathless.

Tyson caught his bottom lip with his teeth for a moment, and the brief pause almost had you wondering if he’d changed his mind already – if it weren’t for the way he was looking at you.

In theory, he wasn’t exactly looking at you any differently as to how he’d been looking at you for the past few months – you knew that now, but it only seemed to confuse you more: if he’d been looking at you this softly and with this kind of…adoration for so long, then you really must have been blind to it, exactly like he’d just said.

His eyes were wide, but almost with a kind of shy curiosity, like he was looking at something for the first time and trying to figure it out, and his head was tilted with amusement. There was a tentative smile on his face, as though he was truly unsure of how to proceed, and he just looked so homely in that moment, with the open back door providing an almost cinematic backdrop.

Somewhere, for you, the line had been blurred when it came to the complicated nature of your relationship, but it felt more like someone had drawn a charcoal line a long time ago and since blown off the dust without your knowledge, until you’d been presented with the issue, that to you, at the time, hadn’t been an issue.

Toni telling you what Tyson had said had changed everything – but you were sure you’d felt like this for a while, just unconsciously. A small part of you had been flattening any feelings you could have possibly had for the man in front of you purely just because you’d been terrified of what it could have meant.

Tyson was your cousin’s teammate, and probably your best friend, and for that to change, he then became something you could lose. And a world without Tyson…

Instead of actually answering your question, he raised a brow, “I thought you knew?”

You shook your head, “How could I have known?” You felt your voice raise a little, a hand going up to slap against the counter – it wasn’t aggressive by any means, nor was it particularly loud, but it didn’t stop Tyson frowning at the action, “I flirted and flirted and you gave me nothing. You stopped altogether, what did you expect me to do with that?”

“I–I thought you were joking, I…You meant all of that?” He spluttered, frowning in confusion, and if you hadn’t been frustrated by the obvious miscommunication issues, you’d have found it rather adorably endearing.

“Yeah.” You nodded.

“So you didn’t know how I felt? How I feel about you?” He asked, a little sadly.

“How could I have known if you never said or did anything outside of the realm of friendship?”

He stared, mouth parted, “I thought you knew.” His voice was strained, telling of his own frustrations.

“If I had known I would have done something about it.”

That seemed to get his attention, and colour rushed to his cheeks, the tips of his ears even tinging another colour, “You–”

The front door slammed open with a resounding thud, and you both froze, words dying on your tongues as your heads snapped in the direction of the front room, anticipating Toni and Mat to come walking through the door. You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest, hands trembling a little, and you hurried to hide them behind your back, turning around to lean against the counter. You could feel Tyson’s eager gaze burning the side of your face.

Everything was about to change, now. But you’d take it one step at a time.

Maybe that’s why, when Mat and Toni walked into the room wearing identical expressions of ‘what’s gone on here?’ after so much as just glimpsing you and Tyson awkwardly making an active effort to avoid looking at each other, you made the excuse you’d left something behind in the brunch place you’d gone to, and instead left house and didn’t return until a few hours later (you’d texted the group chat and told everyone you’d gotten distracted so they didn’t send out a search party). 

It also happened to be sheer luck that when you’d arrived back at the house, armed with some goodies and presents for your friends back home, you hadn’t so much as even seen Tyson in all the time it took you to run upstairs and shower before dinner. 

You guessed it was karma for running away when it came to the promised movie night, Set It Up was queued up to be played, and Mat and Toni were sprawled out together on the one sofa with Tyson lounging in the remaining armchair.

He seemed to spot your appearance first, a bowl of leftovers on his lap as well as his own food in his hand, and even in the dimmed lights you could see the way he seemed to do a double-take when he saw you. He offered a shy, unsure smile in your direction, but before he could do anything else, it was Toni that was talking.

“Tyson, budge up.” She ordered, not even sparing you a glance, and you were kind of grateful she didn’t, because you knew that if she had looked at you she’d have been able to read something there and the last thing you wanted was to not be prioritising Tyson.

But…that armchair was incredibly small for two people, which meant that Toni had to have sensed something was a little off when she’d walked into the kitchen earlier.

She was still meddling.

“It’s fine, I can just grab a cushio–” 

Words failed you when Tyson shook his head, picked up your bowl from his lap and slid to the floor in front of the chair without a word and mid-chew. He threw his head back, gesturing you to take the chair, but when he offered you your bowl, you hesitated.

He barely had time to show confusion before you’d tugged his wrist and patted the barely-there space next to you.

He blinked, the movie beginning to play in the background. You shot a careful look towards the sofa, but Mat and Toni both had their backs to you guys, and even if they didn’t, their eyes were fixed on the screen.

“Are you sure?” Tyson whispered, and even at the thought of ending up half-cuddled next to him to simply sit and watch a film and eat some food sent pleasant goosebumps erupting across your skin.

You were warm having just gotten out of the shower, but you felt your temperature rise a little in anticipation, “Yeah.”

He said nothing else, but heaved himself up off the floor, and you took the liberty of freeing the hand that had been holding your bowl before you stood up and gently pushed him to sit down before steeling yourself. You were nervous, it felt like there was a swarm of bees in your chest – but what else were you supposed to do? Let him sit on the floor and suffer? Have him sit on you? You didn’t fancy your chances getting squished by a hockey player.

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling when he furrowed his brows, about to protest when he realised he was the one sitting and you were the one standing, until you sat down next to him – rather, half-sat on him, throwing the closest thigh to him over the top of one of his and settling back against his shoulder, still side-by-side.

You were both wearing joggers and a hoodie, but as soon as you settled against him, you seemed to feel about ten times more cosy than before: Tyson was warm, combatting the chills that had preceded your nerves, and despite the close nature, you were pleased to find out that he was a comfy pillow.

This was the most you’d ever touched each other.

That realisation seemed to dry your mouth and have a spoonful of food stopping mid-way to your mouth, even despite the rumbling protest from your stomach.

Tyson was watching you out of the corner of his eye, you could feel the intensity graze the side of your cheek, and you turned minutely to look at him, glad the dim lights provided the safe sanctuary for you to be able to blush in peace.

“Are you okay?” He looked concerned – probably a result of you immediately running away after your earlier conversation, but there was a lightness to his features that hadn’t been there in a while.

He looked more at ease, and that seemed to immediately eliminate any and all nerves you’d just been experiencing. You were in this thing together – whatever it was and whatever it will be, if anything ever comes of it – but at the base of it all, you were friends.

You nodded, “I’m fine. I just needed a breather.”

He didn’t say anything, but you could make out the dull shine of his eyes and subtle nod of acknowledgement.

“Are you okay?”

He tried a smile, pushing himself further back into the cushions of the sofa, making you slide further towards him, your shoulder blade firmly tucked against his shoulder, “Yeah.”

You paused for a moment, debating with yourself on whether or not to say the thing that had been bugging you since earlier, but you had Tyson’s attention, no one was watching you, and there was always a movie to turn to if something went askew, so you went for it, albeit a bit uncertainly, “I don’t like seeing you flirt with other people either, by the way.” You whispered faintly, before immediately turning back to the movie and shovelling in a mouthful of your dinner, a little too embarrassed to meet his eyes and gauge his reaction.

He’d frozen, though, that much you could make out from underneath you. And at first you thought he wasn’t going to say or do anything at all, but he leaned his head closer to your ear, “I told her I was taken,” there was a pregnant pause, and you held your breath, eyes still glued on the film playing, “by you.”

You pressed your lips together to hide a small smile, and turned to face him, noses bumping accidentally. You inhaled sharply, pulling away to put an unsuspicious amount of space between you both, “You seem to have a habit of pretending we’re together.”

He just smiled.

***

You hadn’t ever anticipated having to use the spare set of pyjamas you’d packed on this trip. Spare: not with the intention of using them to show anything off, per se, but spare in case you got toothpaste on anything. Your usual pyjamas weren’t exactly anything special; just a t-shirt/long pant combo because no matter where you were in the world, you always seemed to get cold in the night and long pants did the job better than shorts ever could.

Yet, you found yourself cleaning your teeth in a spare pair of buttoned up sleep shorts and an old lace-trimmed vest-top, both of which were too small in some places. They weren’t noticeably too small, but there was definitely more skin shown.

That being said, your intentions weren’t exactly to seduce Tyson right then (after all, he had seen you in a bikini), but to at least make him a little nervous.

And it seemed to do the trick, because he wandered into the room innocently after you’d finished brushing your teeth, again wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and displaying a torso that you could now appreciate in all its glory and not have to sneak glances at him, and promptly stopped after the door shut behind him, clearing his throat.

His eyes seemed to first stick to your face, to which you offered a friendly smile and continued to tidy clothes away and go about your nightly routine, but you could tell they didn’t remain on your face. They travelled down, first to your exposed shoulders, then to the ever-so-slightly strained floral pattern on your camisole top, down to the slither of skin exposed above your shorts, and then they travelled the length of your legs.

He was shameless about it too, and it reminded you so strongly of the day he’d picked you up to go to the team meal and eventually asked you about this very trip, that it had you wondering if that’s when things changed for him – because he was never the same after that. Until now.

Then, as if remembering himself, he blinked and backpedalled, a hand on the door handle, “I can sleep downstairs. I’d understand if you’re not comfortable sharing a bed after everything–”

You frowned, “You know I reciprocate your feelings, right?”

He grinned boyishly, nodding with some enthusiasm, “I do. But I don’t want to cross a line and make things more uncomfortable.”

You stared, lips parting.

You’d never had that before: someone that considerate.

“Don’t go.” Was all you could manage, before you turned back to where you’d been absentmindedly tidying the top of the chest of drawers.

He didn’t take much convincing, and instead stepped into the bathroom to clean his teeth.

When he walked back out, you were brushing your hair, and partly just to see his reaction (partly also to just say what you were thinking), you blurted, “You look nice.”

He stopped in the doorway, swallowing and noctable looking down at himself. When he met your eyes once more, he was pulling an odd face, though the red splotches on his chest were hard to miss (he blushed on his chest?), “I’ve looked like this the entire week.”

“I’m aware.”

He just launched himself onto the bed, groaning into his pillow.

***

Twenty-four hours later, nothing had changed, though that was mostly due to the fact that the boys had wandered off and you and Toni had decided to go shopping, but by the end of the day the only thing that had changed was that you had a new book courtesy of Tyson,  and he had a Martha’s magnet to add to his souvenir collection, courtesy of you.

“Are you still awake?” The whisper was faint, barely more than a heavy breath, but you still heard it.

It was hard not to hear it when you were so attuned to him laying next to you, both of you on your backs and staring at the ceiling, pretending the silence wasn’t palpable. You’d been trying to get to sleep for the better part of an hour and a half, but there was something about knowing he was doing the same thing barely two feet from you that had your brain unable to shut up and actually focus on getting some much-needed sleep.

It wasn’t anything new that you hadn’t already felt with him, but it was new in the sense that you knew how he felt and he knew how you felt, but you hadn’t actually talked anymore about it since a couple of days ago, and it was eating you up inside.

You inhaled softly, trying to get some air into your lungs to calm the sudden spike of nerves that had sent your pulse skyrocketing at the mere sound of his voice. There was something so illicit about knowing you were free to do and say anything in the haven of the room, knowing neither Mat or Toni were at all aware of the new developments.

You hadn’t felt like that in years.

“Yeah.” You whispered back, resisting the urge to smile giddily when you felt him roll on his side to face you.

“Do, uh,” you could practically hear his own smile bleed through his words, and it spurred you on to copy him, packing your pillow down so you could see him a little clearer as you rolled onto your side. His mouth shut when you were face-to-face, but there was a stifled smirk through his pressed lips, before he continued, “Do you want to talk about it?”

The heaviness of your eyelids seemed to answer for you, “Not right now, I think I’m too tired.”

He hummed, and from the crack through the bathroom door, you could just make out the outline of a mass of curls and the vague shimmer of his eyes, “Can I just clear something up with you?”

“Sure.”

“Is it okay with you if I take you out on a date when we get home? I’d like to do this properly.”

“That’s fine with me,” you paused, “but what…are there rules to ‘doing this properly’?”

“Uh,” Tyson hesitated, and you could tell from the tone of his voice alone that he’d already thought about it – an unspoken admission that had your mouth drying and your pulse skyrocketing for a completely different reason, as adrenaline seemed to spike in your system, “That depends.”

You swallowed, noticing the thick blanket of tension that had dropped over the both of you. You knew Tyson could feel it too because he was fidgeting under the covers and his hands couldn’t seem to find one singular place to rest on top of the sheets. If you could see what he was doing, you’d guess he was clenching and unfurling his fist.

“On what?” You asked, feigning naivety.

He sucked in a shallow breath, “Whether that offer to help dress me still stands.”

There was a pregnant pause, and you didn’t dare to move a single muscle. Anticipation had rooted you to the spot, “Dress you?” You repeated, slowly.

You vaguely saw Tyson nod, “Or the other way around.”

“Preferably.” You muttered, “But…” You wanted to say you’d think about it, try to make yourself believe you could wait a little longer, but the restlessness settling in your bones – that had settled and accumulated over the last few weeks, months, maybe – seemed to speak for itself when what left your mouth were the words: “I think I need something to eat.”

And before Tyson could even say anything, you’d thrown the duvet back and started walking down the hallway, and down the stairs. 

Usually when you couldn’t sleep and got hungry again you could ignore the feeling, but you had to get out of that bed with Tyson looking, quite literally, mouthwateringly pretty right in front of you before you did something you’d both regret, such as jumping his bones. Though, you could take some relief in the fact that he clearly was thinking along the same lines judging from his comments.

You’d barely been standing in front of the open fridge, the cold air soothing your scorching body, before you could hear another set of footsteps follow you in and an equally warm body come in to cage against your back – not touch, no, but one of his hands rested just above yours on the door handle, and his other brushed teasingly against the exposed skin on your side, not just sending a jolt of shock to the ends of your toes, but a promise of something more to come – before he reached past you and took an orange from the open bag.

“What do you feel like having?” He murmured into your ear, the gravel of his voice really doing nothing to ease the tension and mounting need that you’d tried to seek relief for.

At this moment in time, every effort seemed inexplicably futile, and Tyson was doing everything to ensure that.

There were a few things that floated through your mind, some more unsavoury than others, but the main thing you felt like having, other than food, was him. And judging from the cocky glint in his eye as he stuck his tongue against the wall of his cheek when you snuck a glance at him, you could tell he knew exactly what you were thinking.

You didn’t know whether starting this thing with him was going to be a blessing or a curse if he knew you so well already.

“Maybe a kiwi–”

“I’m allergic to kiwi.”

You rolled your eyes at his blatant, quick lie, “What a damn shame.” You tutted disappointingly, shaking your head.

You knew it was a test, to see what you were thinking, where he could possibly end up by the end of the night – if you ate it, he’d know you weren’t quite ready for anything, but if you chose to not eat it, well…Only: “I know you’re not allergic to kiwi, you’ve eaten it in front of me before. But nice try.”

You reached a hand inside the fridge, stepping into him a little – enough to feel the rigidity against your leg in his shorts, and hear the low groan he’d tried to hide – and pulling a kiwi from the fridge before ducking under his arm, relishing in the way his eyes were scrunched shut, a painful smile on his face. 

He sauntered over to where the lightswitch was, flicking the lights on along the counter, and you blinked at the sudden brightness, cutting the kiwi in half and opening the drawer to take out a spoon. You looked straight at Tyson, marvelling the tanned, toned ridges of his torso. There were shadows in his collarbones, and his chest was splotched with red lesions that continued up to his cheeks. If you touched his cheeks, you’d know the skin would be burning, but your eyes found themselves travelling downwards to where his stomach was tensed, half-hard in his boxers.

He cleared his throat just as you’d spooned a mouthful of kiwi in, and your eyes flew up to meet his blown pupils and rather ravenous stare as he raised a brow in your direction, fingers working to unpeel his orange. You felt yourself blush, and if he noticed the way you adjusted how you were standing leant against the counter he didn’t say anything, but you couldn’t help noticing the way his tendons flexed or the way his fingers worked expertly to peel away the rind.

He met you at the island, standing directly opposite you, not in the last bit bothered by his rather straining issue or how, as you both stood silently, quite obviously not able to look at anything other than each other, you were getting more restless by the second as desire started to unfurl and lick at your insides.

“Are you okay?” You muttered, swallowing your last piece of kiwi and placing the bowl on the side.

He inhaled deeply, tongue swiping at his lower lip, chest puffing with air, “‘M frustrated.”

You licked the remaining kiwi juice off your fingers, delighting in the way he seemed to slow at your motions. His jaw clenched and, as though he couldn’t take looking at you again, he forced his attention back at the remaining segment of his orange, “Like…” you started, unable to help feeling a little amused at the current predicament, “Sexually, or?”

His eyes rolled to you, a look written on his face that was nothing short of screaming ‘are you fucking kidding me, right now?’, and chewed the remaining segment of orange, “No.”

You crossed your ankles, tailbone pressing into the countertop uncomfortably, but the pain seemed to distract you from your issue, “Pity, I could have helped you out.” You hid your hands behind you, almost trembling with the need to be touched by the man in front of you, but not quite wanting to give in yet.

Tyson huffed a bitter laugh, the sound going straight to your core, and before you could even blink he’d put himself next to you; this time he’d chosen to eliminate any space, the side of his body pressed tightly against yours from your shoulders to your shins. You couldn’t tell if the skin contact on the exposed areas was a relief or just downright torturous, because now you’d felt what it was like to be pressed against him, you didn’t know how long you’d be able to keep your hands to yourself.

Tyson was just downright addictive.

“I definitely underestimated how much of a tease you were gonna be.” He muttered, dipping his head a little lower so his nose was bumping against the side of your cheek. 

Your breath hitched in your chest, and your eyes instantly zeroed in on his lips before looking back up at him, helpless to the effect he has on you, “That’s pretty bold coming from someone who hasn’t even kissed me ye—”

***

This is it.

There was a kind of ‘where do we go from here’ finality to the thought that had seemingly buried itself in your head last night – it was one of the last things you remembered before falling asleep, and it seemed it was the first that echoed through your mind the moment you woke.

That, and the delicious roughness of a warm palm sliding across the skin on your hip, fingers teasing gently and patiently at the elastic of your lace panties, like the owner was biding his time to wake you up gently.

What was one supposed to do after having the best sex of their life? 

Even at the mere memory of it, goosebumps rose on your skin – Tyson clearly catching the change when he placed a delicate, warm kiss on your shoulder blade, the feel of his smile imprinted into your skin as he did so. The action seemed to cause some kind of visceral reaction within you, and despite waking up mere seconds earlier, you suddenly felt more awake than you had ever been in such a short space of time.

Even so, just to toy with him a little longer, you kept your eyes firmly shut, sighing through your nose and snuggling a little deeper into your pillow, trying your absolute hardest to ignore the sudden course of liquid desire that had flooded through your system and subsequently overridden any other habitual thought you tended to have in a morning.

Tyson’s hand froze on your hip, and you felt the mattress dip behind you, a shadow suddenly appearing over your shoulder as he manoeuvred himself around you in an insurmountable display of strength and control – the very display that left you no choice but to open your eyes and hide an almost shy smile in the fabric of your pillow.

His cheeks were a little flushed already, and his lips were redder than usual – another reminder of your early morning activities, and when he caught your eye he grinned mischievously, showing no sign of having only just woken up. His eyes were wide and not at all bleary, an observation that had you vaguely frowning as he slid himself from where he’d been nestled against your back, to laying in front of you.

“Did I wake you up?” He asked innocently, his hand almost instantly returning its place to rest against your hip, although this time with a little force behind his grip as he used the leverage to pull you closer, looping your leg over his hip. There wasn’t even a single hint of apology or remorse for him having woken you up, that much was clear from the twinkle of trouble that had taken up permanent residence in the depths of his eyes since he’d first kissed you.

What were you supposed to say, but the truth? He’d woken you up, that had been his intention, but you weren’t about to confess it was because of the way you now seemed to be in tune with every brief touch of his against your skin.

“Yes.” You mumbled, yawning. 

You weren’t the slightest bit annoyed, either, a fact he seemed to pick up on.

“Sorry.” He shrugged, and you swallowed desperately when he seemed to unconsciously roll his hips up into yours, already half-hard. Almost instantly you seemed to arch into him a little, a hand automatically reaching out to steady yourself against his bulging bicep. His eyes seemed to hood at your reaction, “But the heart wants what the heart wants.”

You didn’t hold back on rolling your eyes, but there was something so enticing and equally as distracting with the way he was looking at you, and you knew, then and there, that you’d be an utter fool not to do anything but give into him when he looked that good this early in the morning . Especially not when you knew you could now freely shut him up in a way he made no complaints against.

Not when you knew you could have him completely at almost any moment now – almost, because Mat and Toni weren’t to know about the two of you, not yet, at least. 

Morning breath be damned (you’d done infinitely worse things earlier), you proved your point twice in bed, a little hurried considering it was verging on the time Mat and Toni would start wandering around downstairs, and once more in the shower.

It was a miracle you’d remembered to remind him not to leave any marks that could be seen if you wore a bikini, because as soon as the both of you had rather bashfully left the room, not even a trace of awkwardness remaining but knowing you’d have to at least fake it for the other two, it became clear that Mat and Toni had decided today was a beach day.

More specifically, a soccer beach day.

And you’d never been more thankful that sunglasses could be a cheap invention, because you spent the entire walk over and setting up on the sand trying and failing not to A, blush every time you caught Tyson smirking at you, B, blush everytime Tyson got that insatiable hunger in his eyes (because that was a thing), and C, look directly at the points on Tyson that you knew were home to dark purple lesions, courtesy of aforementioned escapades (of which were hidden by his swimming trunks). 

It was all rather thrilling, you thought. But knowing exactly what Tyson was capable of and the extent of the pleasure he could give you so easily, you were having a hard time not looking at him or wanting to drag him to the nearest private or secluded area to have your way with him.

The man was a fucking God – literally. 

In fact, you thought you’d both managed to pull it all off thus far until Mat paused, standing up in front of one of the towels and looking rather confusedly between you and Tyson from where you sat opposite each other on parallel towels of your own.

“What?” You immediately asked, mind immediately shooting to him having guessed what had transpired, and Tyson seemed to think the same thing because he suddenly looked very grave, eyes darting between you and Mat with some caution.

“You guys look really tired.” Mat said, lifting his sunglasses onto his forehead and folding his arms across his chest.

You let out a relieved breath internally, tilting your head to look up at him and simultaneously relishing in the fact that Toni wasn’t actually close enough to cast an interrogating ear into this specific conversation. She’d inevitably prod and poke, and although you loved her, she’d most definitely wriggle out the truth somehow and that was the last thing you needed.

See, you and Tyson had an agreement: you could have sex with each other for the remainder of this vacation. When you’d get back home the ‘proper’ dating etiquette would immediately apply itself once more — that being you go on dates and so on.

Only, there was the only issue of the fact that you’d both agreed to that prior to having sex with each other.

And now? You weren’t entirely sure you wanted to stop having sex with Tyson for the sake of just delaying the inevitable. To put it simply, he’d completely ruined you, and judging from the obscene sounds he’d made and the way he’d acted after that first time, he felt the same.

“Yeah,” you started, “We weren’t tired so we watched a movie really late.” You lied.

Mat nodded, “Did you guys go into the kitchen too? There was some stuff on the counter.”

“Yeah, we got hungry.” Tyson excused, playing nonchalant incredibly well.

“Cool.” Mat mumbled, inhaling deeply, “So what movie did you guys watch?”

“The Hangover.”

“The Amazing Spider-Man.”

Fuck.

Mat raised a brow in your direction, and you could feel the panic begin to rise—

“The Hangover and The Amazing Spider-Man.” Tyson intervened coolly, leaving you to just nod rather dumbly.

Mat nodded, seemingly accepting of the answer before walking a little way over to where Toni was sorting herself out. You waited until he was out of earshot before sharing a rather amused, yet bewildered look with Tyson, who – unlike you – was blessed in having his back to the two of them, and who also could only raise a teasing brow in your direction before fishing through your shared beach bag and pulling out a bottle of sunscreen.

Your mind instantly flashed back to the last time you’d ‘helped’ each other put on sunscreen, only this time there was an obvious relationship change – and clearly devious ulterior motives. Nevertheless, you patted the space on your towel, ensuring Mat and Toni were occupied on the other side of the umbrella. 

So far, you hadn’t noticed any signs of them trying to push the two of you together either, but you rather supposed that was due to the weird vibes you’d been giving off the past few days with all the tension and whatnot. But if either of them noticed a slight change, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that they’d instantly resume their matchmaking.

It was why you breathed a little easier when they both stood up and made their way to the water, unintentionally giving the two of you some privacy.

“You’re gonna have to put it on your front yourself, though–”

His groan of protest interrupted your sentence, and you rolled your eyes fondly, standing up to greet him. Tyson is attractive, insanely so, that was something you weren’t immune to recognising even the first time you’d ever met him, but he just looked positively biteable, angelic and irresistible all in a way that had you lost for words when you ended up that close to him again.

“Hi.” he tilted his head adorably, smiling equally as endearingly.

He had a faded navy cap on his head, curls peeking out through the adjustable tag, and his hands were hung by his side, one clutching the bottle and the other tapping his fingers against the outside of his thigh. He was smiling with his whole body, crinkles by his eyes and chest puffed a little.

You could do nothing but reciprocate his infectious smile, your hand almost nervously going up to adjust his own cap on your head – a worn-in one that had rugged applique numbers on the front – before taking the blue bottle from him, doing nothing to avoid touching his hand at all. His palm was warm, and he had such a tight grip that you shot him an unimpressed glance and had to use both hands to pry his fingers away, but you knew he was revelling in the touch. In fact, somewhere between you successfully retrieving the sunscreen and popping the cap, he’d swivelled the hat on your head backwards, spinning around to let you spray his back and shoulders.

You did, taking your sweet, sweet time dragging your palms across his skin, relishing in the way he shivered when you ran a teasing hand beneath the band of his trunks, and the way he seemed to lean his head backwards when you massaged his shoulders.

“Can they see us?” He asked once he’d turned back around to face you, his eyes glued on where you presumed Toni and Mat were splashing in the shallows of the water.

You followed his eyes, turning to throw a casual glance over your shoulder. They could definitely see you guys, that was for certain, but their attention was solely on each other – so much so that even if they could see you , you knew they wouldn’t actually see you.

“They’re not watching us.” Was what you settled for, quirking a curious and rather suspicious brow in Tyson’s direction when a mischievous grin presented itself on his face, “I don’t like that look.”

He took the bottle of sunscreen out of your hand, maintaining slow and steady eye contact, the still cheeky look planted on his face, “It’s the only one I got.”

And before you could protest to what he was about to do – because that wasn’t too difficult when he aimed the bottle in your direction – he sprayed two shots of sunscreen across your chest, just above your bikini, and the sudden cold in the blazing sun immediately sent goosebumps prickling across your skin.

“They still not watching?” 

You shook your head, “Don’t make it obvious, though.”

He grinned, throwing the bottle on the towel, before not-so-subtly smearing the product across your chest, simply using the application of sunscreen as an excuse to slip his hand inside the cup of your bikini–

“Fuck, Mat’s coming.” He rolled his eyes, ripping his hand out of your bikini with a disappointed huff before throwing himself on the towel on the floor in an attempt to make it seem like he wasn’t doing anything he shouldn’t have, and you stifled a laugh.

“You guys nearly done? You want a quick game of soccer?” Mat asked, unzipping his backpack to pull out a soccer ball that he must have bought earlier, and you and Tyson shared a look.

Fifteen minutes later, your shins were stinging from sand exfoliation as a result of Tyson having tackled you rather brutally to the floor, and your cheeks were aching from grinning. The teams were the same as they had been for the pool game: Mat and you against Tyson and Toni – mostly to balance out skill, and also because there wasn’t really anything more fun than to trash talk the living daylights out of Toni and Tyson. 

Though, it seemed Mat was holding back on tackling Toni, and putting all his effort into completely decking Tyson: the man had sand embedded in his curls and you knew if you so much as poked his cheek it’d transfer to your finger.

Having said that, Mat’s efforts weren’t exactly wasted – you were currently beating the other two by four goals (the infrastructure consisted of sunscreen bottles), and everything was going smoothly. There weren’t too many people on your stretch of the beach, and anyone who did happen to pass kept a safe distance. The tackles were fair and safe – or at least, they were until Mat landed a particularly hard one on Tyson and the latter’s foot got caught in the sand as his body fell the other way.

There was a groan as he fell to the floor, and all three of you still standing froze where you were, the ball slowly rolling to a stop. Mat was the first to move when he realised Tyson wasn’t moving – they were taught to stay still if they thought something was really wrong, and although he never said anything, it was clear he was thinking he’d just put his best friend out for the next few months.

The guilt was written all over his face, and it seeped into his actions: his hands were trembling and the questions rolling off his tongue were that of broken speech.

“Wha…ankle or…scale of…” It was as though he couldn’t decide what to ask for his overwhelming concern, and Toni tried to pull him away a little to give you some space to kneel down next to Tyson.

His hand was clutching his ankle and his face was screwed up in pain, and his chest was hitching with each breath for his pain, and even looking at him like that sent something heavy dropping in your stomach. It felt an awful lot like dread.

“Where does it hurt?” You rested a (what you hoped to be) comforting touch to his shoulder, fighting to keep the concern out of your own voice, incredibly aware that Mat and Toni were standing looking over your shoulder.

He inhaled sharply, managing to push himself up into a sitting position, his hand still clamped rather tightly around his ankle. It didn’t look so bad when it happened in the moment, but with the way he was acting, something had clearly gone very wrong. Perhaps weeks off in physio-wrong.

“Argh.” He clenched his jaw, lips pulled tightly together, “It’s my ankle. It’s not that bad I don’t think, but I think I might have sprained it–”

“Fuck.” Mat sighed behind you, and you turned to look at his pale face.

Before you could even attempt to tell him it wasn’t too bad, that sprains weren’t exactly career-ending, Tyson beat you to it.

“It’s nothing. It wasn’t your fault, you tackled me and I turned to avoid you and my foot got caught.”

You shot a look back at Tyson. Feet don’t really get caught in sand, do they? You tuned out of the conversation happening over your shoulders, and gently removed Tyson’s hand from his own ankle, trying to get a look for any possible swelling or bruising, but when he peeled his fingers away, all that you could see was sand and more sand.

Still, you didn’t say anything, not even when you could feel him trying to sneak a look at you out of the corner of his eye, not even when he used said ‘sprained’ ankle to stand up before accepting both yours and Mat’s shoulders to limp back over to the towels and bags. 

There weren’t any ice packs in the cool bags, only ice cubes, and they would have been no good against bare skin.

Naturally, the next step to that was someone going back up to the house to grab an ice pack, only when you volunteered yourself, nearly everyone had protests.

Toni: No you should stay with him. I should go.

Mat: I should go, I’ll be quick and…well, it’s my fault so–

Tyson: Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll both just go.

Tyson’s excuse certainly got a suspicious look, only he seemed to shrug it off when he stuck his bottom lip out a little further and staged a ‘this is really bothering me’ glance to his ankle and after that both Toni and Mat both seemed to buy it.

You on the other hand? You arched an eyebrow but still hid your expression of disbelief under your cap. 

His arm was heavy across your shoulders as you helped him climb the steps to the top path, and he kept grunting in pain every time he had to plant his injured foot on the floor. 

“Do we need to go to the ER and get you checked out?” You asked, the weight of his entire body leant on your shoulder becoming a little too much because you’d learnt pretty quickly that hockey players were as heavy if not heavier than they looked. 

You reached an arm further around his torso, planting your palm against his ribs, and whether it was that firmer touch or something else, he seemed to take some of the weight off your shoulder and twist his head to look behind him–

“What are you doing?”

“Can they see us?” He asked once again, suddenly a little lighter on his feet.

You frowned, turning around, only to be blocked from Mat and Toni’s view by a neat row of shops and cafes, “I don’t think so, no.”

“Oh, thank fuck.” He breathed, immediately stepping normally, the previous weight on your shoulder alleviated almost instantly as he tugged you closer, pressing a quick kiss to your temple and not minding the sand or the cap.

Only, his miraculously quick healing time seemed to have the completely opposite effect on you because you pulled away from him, still clutching his wrist and stopped dead in your tracks, your eyes fixed on his ankle in his sliders.

“So, you’re not–”

“No.” He shook his head, suddenly a little self-conscious, and because your head was ducked down and the brim of your cap was hiding your face, he completely missed the fond roll of your eyes and the rather impressed smile on your face, “Is…That’s okay, right? I just thought it might be nice to have an empty house. I mean, we don’t have to do anything, I just wanted to spend time with you without the other two.”

“You know you didn’t have to fake an injury to do that, right?” 

The tension seemed to dissolve off his face when he saw you were more than amused at his antics, and all at once he pulled you back to him, a cheeky grin on his face, “I know, but if it was any other excuse I don’t think it would have worked so well.”

“Maybe.” You hummed, “Your acting skills were pretty good, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Then, after a rather deep breath to fight through some of the nerves, “Y’know, I wouldn’t mind doing stuff when we get back in.”

“Yeah?” His tone was softer this time, as were his eyes.

“It’d be a shame if we didn’t capitalise on certain opportunities.”

***

Toni had figured something out almost as soon as she walked through the door. You didn’t know if you were trying too hard to be nonchalant or if it was something else, but the very second she walked through the door and set her eyes upon you from where you were tidying up the kitchen, she narrowed her eyes. And then you watched with bated breath as she scanned the entire room until she settled on Tyson, who, as previously planned, was laid on the couch with an ice pack on his ankle.

As far as you were aware, you were both fully presentable. The house didn’t smell of sex – the air fresheners took care of that perfectly well, but even so, you guys mostly stayed in your room; nothing wasn’t as it was before, which was why it was so unnerving to see her stalk right over to you.

“What’s up?” You asked slowly, your hands halting from where you were cleaning the counter.

She sidled right up to you, until her shoulder was pressed against yours, and she waited until Mat had gone upstairs before she did anything.

“So,” she started, loud enough for Tyson to turn where he was sitting to watch the two of you, “how come you two have never dated?”

The silence was loud.

You refused to look at Tyson. If you did, it would only give her leverage or something else that wouldn’t be good in any way whatsoever. Instead you looked straight at Toni, schooling your expression into one of confusion.

You’d talked about something similar with her before, but it hadn’t gone past ‘we’ve never hooked up’, and now? Well, that’s not true now, is it?

“Um…” You hesitated, well aware of Tyson’s eyes on the side of your face, “We’re just friends.” 

She pulled a face, “Yeah. You guys like each other, though.”

“Of course we do, we’re friends.” 

She paused, smiling, “You’re one of my best friends. I know when you’ve had sex.” At that she sent a rather pointed accusatory glare, laced completely with amusement, straight at the mop of curls and pair of eyes peering over the back of the couch, eagerly watching the entire interaction. At the sudden attention, his eyes widened and his brows disappeared under his hair.

“I…What?” Tyson asked, rather adorably.

“I’m sure it’s just the sun–”

“Well, you’ve always had a penchant for orbiting each other, I’ll give you that.” 

And quite frankly, you couldn’t really remember much after that, other than the fact that Toni then left the room and somehow you’d migrated to the couch, ensuring to leave an appropriate gap between you and Tyson. 

Though, if Toni had gone upstairs, then Mat probably knew, because even though Tyson was one of your closest friends, nothing really beat the extent to which you and Toni knew each other. Even though neither you or Tyson admitted anything, Toni knew.

And with that in mind, you shuffled the small gap across the cushions, head resting against the meat of Tyson’s shoulder from where he’d stretched his arm out. He seemed to freeze a little under your touch.

“Are you sure?” 

You hummed, “Mat probably knows by now anyway.” 

He moved his arm to curl around your shoulders, resting his head against yours. You tried to see if you could hear anything happening upstairs, maybe a loud exclamation from Mat, or the thumping of footsteps, but nothing happened. Or, if it did, you wouldn’t have been entirely surprised, because it was hard to hear anything apart from the rushing of blood in your ears and the faint echo of Toni’s earlier words.

She really phrased it quite nicely.

“It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet. We fucking suck at keeping secrets.”

#tyson jost oneshot #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost x reader #tyson jost fic #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey fic #martha's is pretty romantic

[raysofcrosby]

ONE LOVE, ONE KISS, ONE DRINK, ONE SONG, ALL YOU – t. jost

warning(s): language, angst, implied sex, drinking + driving [please don't ever do this], very brief mention of blood, mention of a hospital + coroner's office [identifying a loved one], mentions of funeral services + a cemetery, death and ultimate sadness [aka fair warning, this is about to be one sad ass fic<3]

loosely inspired by: one love, one kiss, one drink, one song by chase rice

word count: 26,323

an: this fic is for the summer fic exchange 2k21! i had the utmost pleasure of writing this piece for the organizer herself, demi, aka @antoineroussel. i've never done anything like this and it was really fun to partake and truly felt a little more creative and excited to write for this fic exchange, especially with how organized it was!

He couldn’t stop replaying that last conversation in his head.

Two weeks after the fact and it was all he could think about.

“If you go, we’re done.”

Her hand paused in the bowl on the table console that was filled with everyone else's car keys who chose to drive. As she turned around and looked at him, her brows furrowed as her eyes gauged the seriousness in his tone. “Go where? Home or London?”

“I don’t care, both.” He shrugged, shaking his head.

“Fine. Then I guess we’re done.”

Two weeks after the fact and it was all Tyson could think about– she was all Tyson could think about. Though, when was he never not thinking about her in the eighteen years he’s known her?

Clementine Blake had stumbled into his life the same way she stumbled out of it– with a frown on her face and hurt in her eyes. The only difference was that this time, Tyson was the reason for the hurt that shined in her brown eyes. Brown eyes that he could find himself enamored with for hours if possible. In the sunlight, when the light hit just right, it was like they turned into a golden honey shade. And in the winter months, when the weather was cold, they reminded him of the hot chocolate his Mom used to make him and Kacey on Christmas Eve, that deep chocolate brown that could provide him with a sense of warmth with just one glance.

Brown eyes that with four simple words, he had pushed out of his life forever.

Now, instead of waking up in the bed with her beside him, he was waking up alone in his childhood bedroom. Instead of walking out into the living room of their apartment, he was walking out into the living room of his Mom’s house. Clementine wouldn’t be walking into the kitchen and wrapping her arms around his torso, asking if he made the coffee yet, he’d walk out into the homey kitchen and have to wait to use the keurig since Kacey was making tea.

“You’re going somewhere?” Kacey asked, walking into the kitchen after the keurig beeped, signaling it was done.

“Just for a run,” Tyson replied, shrugging as he brushed by her and into the living room. “Didn’t feel like waiting to make coffee, plus I need to just...shut down my mind for a bit.”

“Tys...this isn’t something you can just skip over and try not to think about.” Kacey continuously dipped the tea bag into her mug, frowning at him. “I mean...have you even tried to talk–”

“Bye Kacey!” He called out, waving her off before opening the front door and jogging down the short steps.

The thing about dating your childhood best friend is that when you go home, there’s no escaping them in any situation, even after a breakup, especially since both of their families still live in the neighborhood they grew up in. Because the moment Tyson walked down the short driveway and looked up from his phone, he saw the Blake family home, 161 Chisom Street, three houses down to his left. If it wasn’t for Kacey’s late-night emergency room visit where Tyson’s Mom had to drag the both of them at three o’clock in the morning for Kacey’s fever– then maybe Tyson would’ve met Clem earlier. Frances Blake– also known as Nana Blake to both Jost children and Clem– looked after three to four neighborhood kids when their parents had no other option for childcare. She didn’t charge them anything, but the parents always insisted on paying her for helping them out because she was just such a kindhearted woman.

So instead of meeting Clementine on that first day of Kindergarten when his Grandpa had to rush him into the classroom since he was already a few minutes late, he could’ve met her at Nana Blake’s house– otherwise, what had become her new home– and they could’ve sat on the bus together.

Instead, they met in the classroom, and even from that first interaction, Tyson knew Clementine Blake was going to be a big part of his life.

“Hi Tyson, I’m Mrs. Clemmons,” his teacher smiled, squatting down to his level and extending her hand out to shake. “I’m going to be your teacher this year. Everyone just got settled at their tables, so why don’t I help you put your lunchbox away in your cubby and get you settled so you can color too, okay?”

“Okay,” Tyson nodded, looking up at his Grandpa and letting go of his hand, waving. “Bye Grandpa, I’ll see you later.”

“You have a good day today, Tyson,” he said, bending down and hugging him before leaving the classroom just as Tyson took Mrs. Clemmons hand and led him over to the wall of taken cubbies.

“So this empty cubby right here is where you’re going to put your lunchbox and anything else you bring with you, into class okay?” She smiled, nodding as Tyson put his blue lunchbox into the empty cubby and slid off his jacket. “So every morning, you’ll come over here, drop your stuff off, and then,” she led him over to a table, pulling out his chair and helping him put his backpack on the back of it. “You’ll hang your backpack on the back of your chair and sit down here where your name tag is.”

“Okay,” Tyson nodded, scooting himself closer to the table as Mrs. Clemmons came over and placed a coloring sheet that had a farmhouse, a big tree in the front yard, and a dog sitting on the lawn at it before telling him he was free to use any of the crayons in the bucket at the middle of their table but to be careful with them and not break them.

“Mrs. Clemmons, I have a question!” The little girl standing at the desk in the front of the classroom called out, raising her hand.

“Tyson, you go ahead and get started on your color sheet and feel free to use any of the crayons in the bucket right there in the middle of the table, but just remember to be gentle with them okay?” She smiled, patting his shoulder before walking away from the table and over towards her desk.

There were two boys beside him who were already chatting away like they were best friends and coloring their sheets– one had a farmhouse like Tyson and the other had a boat on the water– neither of them acknowledging Tyson’s presence, while the seat to his left...was empty. He looked down at the sheet, rubbing his hands down his jeans and figuring out where he wanted to start. The biggest amount of space was going to be green so of course, he’d want to get that out of the way first.

Only he had an issue– he couldn’t tell the difference between red or green. Something that they’d found out when he started pre-school and he was trying to figure out a way to be able to at least try and tell the difference between the two shades, but of course, they’ve had little luck.

Tyson reached in for the two crayons that were clearly not looking like the rest in his eyes and held them in his hands. Unfortunately, even for being newish, the ends were a little ripped. And even if they weren’t, Tyson couldn’t exactly read the small print or even the color on the label in general, considering he didn’t know how to read.

“Hi,” Tyson spoke, turning towards the two boys. “Which is green?”

The two boys turned out of their conversation and looked at him like he had two heads before the one closest to him pointed to the crayon in his left hand. “That one.”

“Thank–” Tyson couldn’t finish his thanks before the boys turned back into their conversation. He sighed and tossed the crayon in his right hand back into the bucket before leaning his arms on top of the table and starting to color the tree leaves.

He focused on outlining like how Nana Blake does whenever she sits down to color with him after school, while also trying not to break the crayon. He smiled once he finished outlining, already feeling excited to bring the coloring sheet home to show his Mom at the end of the day, before he started to color it in, trying to do shading like Nana Blake did, but also not wanting to go outside the lines.

Someone sat down in the chair next to him before placing their coloring sheet– two kids, a boy, and a girl walking through a grass field with the sun in the middle of the sky and a tree on either side of it– down onto the table and scooting closer to the table before reaching into the bucket and selecting a few crayons before resting them down in front of them.

“Where did you get that?” Tyson asked, looking at them to see it was the girl who was standing in front of Mrs. Clemmons desk. Her black hair was separated into two braided pigtails, each tied off with small purple bows on the ends, her brown eyes were a little sad looking and she had a frown on her face.

“I asked. Mrs. Clemmons gave me one with parents in it, but I don’t want that one.” She spoke softly, reaching out and grabbing a yellow crayon, going to color before looking at his sheet, her face scrunching up. “Why are you coloring your tree red? Are you blind or something?”

Tyson felt his face heat up as he looked down at his half-colored tree and the crayon down in his hand. He looked to his right where the two boys were giggling as they colored before looking back at his sheet and frowning. He reached up and put the crayon down onto the table before looking at her, nervous about how to explain it since he didn’t really know how to.

“Red and green look...gray to me. I can’t tell them apart.” He confessed, looking back down at his tree and pushing his sheet away from him, no longer feeling like coloring and trying not to cry since once he realized he couldn’t bring this sheet home because his tree was red...not green and he wanted his sheet to look nice for his Mom.

He half expected her to laugh like the other boys did or maybe even ignore him. She didn’t say a word though as she got up out of her chair and walked away from their table. A few moments later, he heard crayons moving around in the bucket before a hand reached in and took his sheet, placing an identical clean one down in front of him. Another hand appeared as the first moved away and turned over, holding a crayon in the palm.

He looked up to see the girl nodding at him, no frown on her face, but still a neutral look. “Here, this one’s what you want. I got you a new sheet too, that way you can start over.”

Tyson reached out and grabbed the crayon from her. “Thank you.”

“One second,” she replied, taking it back and reaching into the bucket, grabbing another crayon before hiding them both from him and then holding them out in front of him. “Okay, now guess which one is red and which is green.”

Tyson frowned, looking between the two crayons, still unsure of which was which and she had the labels turned away to where he couldn’t read. He would’ve thought she was making fun of him, but she was speaking quietly and not bringing attention to them, so he felt a little more comfortable in answering her question. He stared back and forth between the two crayons and then pointed at the one he was somewhat sure was red. “That’s red,” he pointed to the other one. “And that’s green.”

Clementine shook her head before putting one back into the bucket and handing him back the green crayon. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you,” she spoke, returning her attention to her coloring sheet.

Tyson held the green crayon in his hand before moving the sheet closer to him and turning slightly in his chair to face towards her as he started to redo his steps in outlining the tree. He got halfway when he looked up at her to see her doing the same as him. “I’m Tyson,” he spoke, looking at her name tag to see the amount of letters. “Whoa, that’s a long name. What is it?”

“Clementine,” she replied, keeping her eyes focused as she outlined the trees, her tongue poking out the side of her lips. “My Nana calls me Clem though.” She reached for another crayon, keeping it shielded from him before she turned towards him, holding it out. “What color is this?”

“Blue?” He replied, furrowing his brows. “It’s the same color as my shirt.”

“Okay, just checking,” she smiled for the first time before going to outline the boy's shirt in her coloring sheet.

“Is that me?” He asked, leaning towards her coloring sheet.

“Well...you are wearing a blue shirt,” she shrugged, outlining the boy's shirt.

“Yeah,” Tyson replied, nodding his head as he went to finish outlining his tree, moving onto shading it next before looking up at her. “Do you want to be friends, Clementine?”

She kept her head down until she finished outlining the girl's shirt– the same color purple as the one she was wearing– and looked up at him, a smile on her face as she nodded. “Only if you call me Clem.”

Tyson sprinted out the last two blocks, huffing as he slowed down just outside of the Blake’s family home, his hands on his hips as he started to walk slowly. There were no cars in the driveway and Tyson didn’t expect there to be, yet he was still tempted to just walk up to the front door like all the times he’s done since the day they met and walk into the house, feeling like he was home.

Only it was hard to say if it would ever feel that way again.

He looked away from the house and walked towards his own, before making his way up the steps and into the house, where his Mom was talking to Kacey in the dining room. “Hey sweetie,” she spoke softly, standing up. “How was the run?”

“It was fine,” he spoke, stepping out of his shoes by the front door before nodding towards his bedroom. “I’m gonna go ahead and take a shower before I head out–”

“Head out where?” She asked, making him feel like he was a teenager again at home for the summers with her need to know his every move. “Gram and Grandpa are coming over tonight early,” she faded off, resting her hand along the back of the couch. “Are you going to be at dinner tonight?”

“I don’t know Mom, maybe,” he replied, walking over to her and kissing her cheek. “I’m fine, I promise. You guys don’t need to treat me with baby gloves.” He walked back towards the hall, walking down it before poking his head back out. “I won’t be out late, I’ll be home by dinner.”

She forced a smile onto her face, but everything else showed what she was feeling– worry and sadness. “Okay, we’ll see you then.”

Tyson nodded and walked back down the hall, opening the hall cupboard and grabbing himself a towel before walking into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. He walked over to the shower and turned on the water, walking back to the sink and looking at his reflection. His face was red and sweaty from his run and he clearly looked exhausted from the lack of sleep he’s gotten since their big fight. But he was still feeling things at least, the aching from his run and his fight with Clementine.

And that’s better than not feeling anything at all.

Tyson skipped dinner.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see his Grandparents, he loved them with every fiber of his being. He stayed long enough to greet them when they arrived at the house, but he just couldn’t stay. He didn’t want to sit around a table and listen to the awkward conversations where Clementine’s name would naturally come up before they all got a guilty look on their faces. He didn’t want to be the victim of those same guilty and pity-filled looks...so he didn’t stay.

He just greeted them with a hug and a kiss and then apologized for not being able to stay for dinner because he made plans (a lie) before heading out the front door and getting into his car and driving away….to the very far back of a shopping center parking lot. Tyson didn’t have any plans, he just drove to the nearby shopping center, parked away from all of the cars...and sat there, backed into his parking lot, and staring at the two stores that were within his view.

Liquors-R-US and Vanity Dresses.

The liquor store was on the far left and the dress shop at the far right, a multitude of stores in between– but both having played such a role in some moments in their relationship. The liquor store was the last store she’d drug him to so she could find the alcohol she’d been searching for before they flew out to B.C. with some of the team for a nice vacation after an upsetting and strenuous playoffs last year– and that store happened to be the only one that still had some of it in stock.

The dress store...that was where she bought her dress for the team New Year's Eve party his first full season in Colorado. She had seen it on their website, had obsessed over it but felt a little weird about having it sent over– so Tyson did it for her as a surprise, a gift for how hard she’d been working during her freshman year at UC Boulder and adapting to the college life when she hadn’t been so sure she even wanted to do it in general and was even more nervous about having to live on campus that first year.

She was especially worried academically and it was all because of kindergarten.

Clementine did good at school, but that first year was really rough, to where it was suggested that she actually be held back. She was fine socially, it was just academically she was struggling– something Tyson never really even picked up on, because Clementine always seemed so...in the know. He didn’t learn why she was no longer in the same grade as him, even though she was a month older than him, until the summer before sixth grade when he overheard his Mom and Nana Blake talking about how Clementine didn’t want to be moved up a grade, even though her teachers thought she was able to.

It was also when, after he asked his Mom, of course, he learned how exactly Clem came to live with her grandparents in St. Alberts.

Clementine’s mom, Adelisa...was a sort of free spirit. After she graduated high school, she went on a graduation trip with some of her friends, met a boy in a band at a bar in Vancouver, and stayed with him for the rest of the summer, sending her friends back home alone to St. Albert’s with a letter to her parents letting them know she’d be back by the end of the summer. Sure enough, when September rolled around and she was set to start her freshman year of college, she came home three months pregnant and telling her parents she wasn’t going to college and that she was going to move in with Derek– Clementine’s father and Adelisa’s boyfriend.

Six months later, she came back around again and introduced them to their granddaughter, staying only a week before Derek’s band was touring on the east coast of Canada and Adelisa took Clementine along. And that was the pattern. Show up months later, stay for a week, two at most before she left again, only ever reaching out for her parents when she needed money or when she came to use Clem as a sort of buffer between them, knowing that they’d be a little less hostile as long as the babbling black-haired, brown eyes Clementine was around.

But the visits stopped after Clementine’s second birthday and so did the calls. And for three years, they had no idea where Adelisa, Derek, or Clementine were, or if they were even alive. The week before Clementine came to stay with them, Adelisa showed up just after Nana Blake had actually put Tyson down for a nap with some of the other neighborhood kids. She looked stressed, panicked even, and had asked her Mom if she could come in and talk.

It was then that Nana Blake learned that Derek had died in a motorcycle accident eight months prior and Adelisa had been working as a paralegal at a law firm in Toronto, despite having absolutely no experience in law or even a college degree, for the last six months for a lawyer named Thomas Johnston. A man who Adelisa described as “very kind and understanding” for her situation. And in the months since he hired her, after also disclosing the two had met at a bar where Adelisa was the bartender, they’d also been in a relationship. The only thing was that he had absolutely no idea that Clementine even existed.

Anytime he was over at her apartment, which was rare, she always had the elderly woman down the hall watching Clem. If she went over to his, which were always guaranteed to be overnight stays, Clem stayed with the same woman. Thomas wasn’t sure if he wanted kids just yet and Adelisa knew she wanted a future with him. So she asked Nana Blake if Clementine could just stay here until he figured out if he wanted kids or not and then she’d come back. And when Nana Blake said no and that Adelisa should be ashamed of herself for hiding her daughter, Adelisa stormed out and never came back.

Well...she did come back, two months later at the end of August when St. Alberts had been hit with a heavy rainstorm that had slowly turned into a snowstorm overnight. It wasn’t until 4 a.m. when Nana Blake and Howard Blake– affectionately known as Papa– could hear a soft thumping echoing throughout their quiet house. Howard had gotten up, telling Frances to stay there as he grabbed his gun from the closet and made his way out of their bedroom, listening intently for the thumping sound again. It had stopped once he walked over to the front door. He looked through the peephole, not seeing anything but the fresh blanket of snow that was falling and when he unlocked and opened the door, he immediately called out for Frances.

Because there on the front step, half-asleep and wearing only her thermal power puff girl pajamas and rain boots, was five-year-old Clementine Blake, shivering, sleepily rubbing her eyes and close to falling asleep on the cold front porch.

Adelisa had left her five-year-old daughter on her parent's front porch in the middle of the night, without so much as a warning phone call or a simple knock on the door or a ring of the doorbell.

And it wasn’t discovered until those first few weeks into kindergarten, that Mrs. Clemmons had called Nana Blake and Howard into class, discussing just how far Clementine was behind her classmates academically. And when they posed questions because they’d been working with her and Clementine never showed any lack of knowledge for her age, Mrs. Clemmons said it was likely that she had just been mirroring the things she’d seen– like she’d been sat down in front of a television most of the time and had no real general human interaction or conversation.

It was then, in that last, angry phone call to Adelisa, that Nana Blake had found out Clementine had never been enrolled in nursery school or pre-k. She’d been watched by an 80-year-old woman, who was sweet, but couldn’t handle an energetic toddler and entertained her the best way that she could– by playing kid movies and t.v. shows. It was also then that Nana Blake said they would take Clementine off of Adelisa’s hands if that’s what she wanted.

The proper paperwork signing away Adelisa’s parental rights were in the Blake’s mailbox the following week and days later, before the winter break had even started, it was decided that Clementine would be held back in Kindergarten.

And that doubt of her own educational abilities stayed with her her entire life.

So his rookie season, he invited her to live with him in Colorado– well, stay with him as one of three rookies in a house, and a sophomore player. It was a bit crowded and no strangers to sharing a bed, he and Clem shared his room as their own– but the boys loved her cooking and even her as well– and Clem loved...well everything about the area. It was an afternoon with Mel that Clem had learned about CU Boulder and even took a tour of the campus. At the house, she confided in the boys that she was thinking about applying, in which all of them told her to do it. And later that night when it was just the two of them lying shoulder to shoulder in bed, she asked Tyson if he thought she should go for it.

Tyson said yes and Clem applied for the fall semester, to no surprise, getting accepted and even receiving a full scholarship for her grade marks.

So come the start of Tyson’s sophomore season, the two of them moved to Denver together. Only this time, Clementine would be staying in a dorm on campus and Tyson would be going back to his four-bedroom home. And to say that Clem thrived, would be such an understatement. It was rare if there was ever a time where the two of them got to spend an entire day together like they used to, and while Tyson joked about her forgetting him, he loved seeing her bond with her roommate, Fiona, and a group of friends they made in their dorm hall. Sure, she had her moments when she’d come over to his apartment because the guys whined about missing her and she’d sit there and try to study and stress over it all, but Tyson saw the confidence growing and it was JT who had told her too. “Boulder’s a good look for you, Clem. Denver too.”

Tyson knew what he meant by it. It was no secret to his teammates or their significant others that Tyson held feelings for Clementine. How could he not? She was beautiful, kind, smart, she laughed at his dumb jokes and encouraged him whenever he wanted to just do a goofy dance– though she’d also record it and post it elsewhere soon after– and he’s had feelings for her, honestly since that first day in Kindergarten. And they only grew stronger the day in seventh grade on their bus ride home, when Drew, one of his friends and sitting a row diagonally behind him, told him that he heard Clem wanted to kiss him.

So when they got on the bus ride home, he took his normal seat down beside Clementine, all in his seventh-grade awkwardness and she had asked him if he was okay. In the lowest voice he could, he whispered “do you want to kiss me? Because Drew said you did.” To which a surprised Clementine replied, “Holly said the same thing to me.” And when the two turned around to see their friends giggling with their other group of friends, huddled in their bus seats, Tyson had actually felt his stomach drop. From disappointment or embarrassment, he didn’t know. It was no secret that he and Clementine were best friends and people, especially kids their own age, thought it was weird and that they had to be dating.

But they weren’t, they were just friends.

“Do you want to?” Clementine whispered, tapping his shoulder and looking at him. “Kiss me...I mean?”

Tyson felt his face grow hot as he looked at her with wide eyes, slouching his shoulders as if that would hide him from their friends. “Do you?”

He’d never seen her face get so red before and he had even been more surprised when she nodded. “Yeah...but-but only if you want to–”

“We can,” Tyson nodded, resting his hands in his lap. “So...do we just go on three or–”

And Clementine was the one who leaned in, eyes closed and lips pursed as she kissed him for only a second. Tyson knew this because he was so caught off guard, that he barely had time to close his eyes and saw her pull away just as fast as she had leaned in– their friends screaming and laughing in disbelief.

The bus ride home was awkward, they never talked about it and they never did anything as much as hold hands or kiss. That was it– one and done.

When the team New Year’s Eve party came around, Tyson had invited Clem, but told her she didn’t have to go in case she had plans with some of her college friends who were still in town, but feeling guilty from never getting to hang out as much and finally on some kind of break from school, Clementine said yes and started looking for an outfit. Which is how Tyson found out about the red mid-thigh, sequin dress she’d been ogling from the boutique back home. And when he asked if she was going to buy it and she said no, he bought it for her and had it shipped to his home, where she was staying for winter break. He handed it to her in a dress box when she came home from the grocery store with the ingredients for the dinner they were going to make together for the rest of the apartment. Clementine tried to pay him back, especially for the shipping, but Tyson refused, telling her it was a late Christmas gift because he was proud of her for making the Fall Dean's List.

And he was very thankful to have bought that dress, because when she had walked out of their shared bathroom and into the living room where Tyson, JT, Kerf, and their two girlfriends were waiting for Clem to, as Syd had put it- “fix the sticky boob issue”- which before either of them could ask what she meant, she and Marissa shut them down and then Clementine came walking down the stairs, apologizing for making them wait those extra 45 seconds. And when she reached the bottom of the stairs and looked at Tyson with a smile on her face, he was done for.

She was stunning, everything about her had him hooked and the red, sequin dress that hugged her curvy figure was just the cherry on top.

The organization had rented out one of the ballrooms at a hotel near the arena for the New Year's Eve party, all employees for the organization were welcome- and man did they show up. It was a lot of mingling with teammates, coaches, trainers, and the staff on the business side. And like always, Clementine just mingled well with everyone Tyson had introduced her to, that she hadn’t come to know yet. They were out on the dance floor a few times, always during the fast-paced songs so Tyson could go all out in his dancing to the point to where the last time around, just before midnight he needed to go to the drink table to get themselves some refreshments.

“So is tonight the night you finally make your move?” JT asked, leaning against the refreshment table as Tyson waited for the server to fill up the champagne flutes.

“What are you talking about?” Tyson asked, unamused.

“You brought Clem here as your date, no?” He laughed, reaching for two flutes for him and Syd as Tyson grabbed two for him and Clementine. “And it’s New Year's Eve.”

“Still not seeing the correlation between the two. She’s in town and I figured it’d be fun for the both of us to come. Plus she already knows everyone on the team, so it’s like hanging out with friends.”

“A friend whose side you haven’t left since she came walking down the steps at home,” JT smiled, wiggling his eyebrows. “Not to mention, you two are the only ones here who won’t have a New Years' kiss.”

“Oh come on, that’s not true.” Tyson scoffed, trying to shake off the embarrassment.

“What’s not true?” Clementine asked as JT and Tyson reached the table where she and Syd were talking.

“Noth–”

“That you and Josty are the only two here without someone to kiss at midnight,” JT smiled, cutting Tyson off as he handed off the flute to Syd. “Even the kids present are getting a kiss from their parents. You two are the lone ones out.”

“JT stop it,” Syd said, nudging his arm and giving him a look before turning to a flustered Clementine and nervous Tyson. “Don’t let him ruin the good night, he’s had a little bit too much champagne.”

“It’s fine,” Clementine spoke, shaking her head, taking her flute from Tyson, smiling. “I’ve grown accustomed to JT’s unwanted comments anyway,”

“Whatever,” JT scoffed, rolling his eyes as he grabbed Syd’s hand. “If you two want to stay oblivious and be the only ones without a kiss at midnight, that’s fine by me. But don’t be mad when I say ‘I told you so’ the moment that you see I’m right.”

Syd nudged JT away from the table just as Tyson took his seat next to Clementine, sighing. “I’m sorry about him, he’s so annoying.”

“You don’t think he’s right, do you?” She asked, looking worried. “That we’re the only two without someone to kiss at midnight?”

“He can’t be. I’m sure someone here has to be as single as we are,” Tyson replied, taking a long sip of the champagne as he stared around the crowd...only to realize that everyone here...was in fact, coupled up. “Shit. He’s fucking right.”

As the crowd started to move more towards the dance floor where the countdown was being projected on a giant screen above the stage, Tyson helped Clementine out of her chair as everyone started to countdown the final minute.

“I mean, it wouldn’t be that bad if we did, right?” Clementine asked, leaning in towards his side and trying to speak above the crowd as he walked them closer towards the dance floor.

“If we did what?” He asked, instinctively wrapping his hand around her waist, looking at her. “Kiss at midnight?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, holding her champagne flute nervously. “It’s not like it’ll be the end of the world if we do.”

“Totally,” Tyson nodded, trying not to let his nerves shine through as his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Yeah, no, we totally could and it would be fine.”

“So do you wanna?” She asked, the right corner of her lips dipping in as she chewed on the inside of her cheek. “It’s up to you because I wouldn’t mind–”

“I wouldn’t either,” Tyson nodded, shrugging. “So, I guess it’s decided then?”

“Mhhm,”

“Ten...nine…eight....seven…”

“We’re not just doing this because JT pressured us into it, right?” Tyson asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Six...five…”

“JT can’t make us do anything we don’t want to, Tyson.” She said, her lips right by his ear and her warm breath tickling against his skin and sending goosebumps down his entire body.

He blinked, staring at her in shock. “So you want this? To kiss me?”

“Three...two...one...HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

And just like she did on the school bus, Clementine leaned in and pressed her lips against his own, only this time their lips were pressed together for more than a second. His arm wrapped fully around her waist as he tugged her as close to him as possible and she wrapped an arm around his neck, her fingers lacing themselves in his brown curls as Tyson deepened the kiss, sighing against her mouth. The New Years' chants and singing around them were nothing but background noise since he was more focused on the butterflies in his stomach, the smell of her honey-scented shampoo, or the way her lips just molded against his perfectly.

When they finally pulled apart, it was like that movie moment where they were just focused on each other, each trying to understand the feelings rushing through them at that very moment and whether or not the kiss they said wouldn’t be a bad thing and wouldn’t change a thing...was going to do the exact opposite and turn their entire world upside down.

Which it totally did. Because later that night when the party broke down and the guests all went to their booked hotel rooms for the night, only one of the queen-sized beds in Tyson and Clementine’s shared hotel room was slept in, their clothes were strewn across the room– shoes by the door, her dress draped over the desk chair, his suit tossed onto the extra bed– and their limbs entangled together beneath the moving white bedsheets in the early hours of the New Year morning, and naked bodies pressed together as they slept soon after

Up until that point, they’d been best friends for 15 years. But January 1st, 2018, was their new beginning as Tyson and Clementine: the couple, and while he’d never been a fan of those world-changing, earth-shattering moments...he had been absolutely, positively, thankful for that one.

At least, he had been until now. If he would’ve known that three years later, things would’ve turned out like they are now...he never would have brought her to Colorado, she never would have been at CU Boulder, meaning she wouldn’t have been around for him to invite to that New Years Eve party and things never would’ve ended up like they did.

Part of him didn’t want to regret it all, because he loved her with every single part of him and loved being able to be with her in more than a friendship way...but with the way that he was feeling right now and holding onto that not so solid hope that things could’ve turned out differently...he did, he regretted it.

Tyson sighed, turning his car back on as a car drove by him through the parking lot. The country radio station he and Clementine loved to listen to whenever they were back home, was playing the ending of a new Thomas Rhett song as Tyson found his way out of the parking lot and waiting for the left arrow to turn green before he turned out into the street and made his way even further away from home. He wasn’t going to stay out long, just long enough for his grandparents to go to bed and everyone else too, so he could walk into the house and avoid any unwanted questions– which at this point, every question was an unwanted question.

“You’re listening to Real Country 97.7, this is Hal and earlier if you were listening in, we gave away two front row tickets to the King of Country, George Straits’ greatest hits tour, for when he goes to Calgary this October. We’re giving away another set of tickets, only these two come with the ever-coveted backstage passes! In honor of the giveaway, we’re going to go ahead and play some King to get the juices flowing. Don’t change the station, because when we come back, the tenth caller will be the winner of those two tickets and passes! Here’s ‘Cross My Heart’ from George Strait’s 1992 movie, ‘Pure Country,’” the radio host said, a small silence before the beginning notes of the all too familiar song started to play.

Tyson wanted to shut it off, but he couldn’t. His hands didn’t leave the steering wheel, only gripped it tighter as he changed his destination.

“Our love is unconditional, we knew it from the start. I see it in your eyes, you can feel it from my heart.”

As he pulled out onto the empty plot of land, Tyson ignored the private property signs like he did the years before back after he got his license and was home for the summer, driving out to the middle of the field, his engine still on, listening to the song.

He and Clementine had only officially been dating for six months when they went to Gabe and Mel’s wedding. Something that both their families, their mutual friends, and all of Tyson’s teammates had been absolutely obsessed over, most of them saying “it’s about time” and not a single soul saying that they never saw it coming. They sat there during the ceremony, his hand holding hers and resting on top of her thigh and their knees touching, watching their two friends exchange vows to each other before sealing it with a kiss and walking back down the aisle.

Tyson knew Clementine loved weddings, so he never joked as he saw her try to sneakily wipe away tears during their vows or the pastor's speech. He just squeezed her hand tighter and pressed a kiss to her temple– something he’d done before, but now it felt so different because it was different. When the reception came, it was just one big party. There was nonstop dancing, drinking, eating, the speeches– all of it was so much fun, but even more so since he had Clementine by his side as his official date and not just a friend date.

His heart dropped out of his chest the moment time came for the bouquet toss, all of his teammate's girlfriends and other women running over to join in as their dates looked around nervously. Naturally, Clementine, ever the competitor she was, had managed to snag the bouquet and it was seconds later that he was getting pats on the back and shoulders from his teammates who were all laughing and telling him that it was only a matter of time before they’d find themselves at his and Clem’s wedding. But the thing was, he didn’t mind it.

He already knew he’d marry her someday.

Tyson plopped down at his seat, exhausted from clearly beating JT and Nate in a dance battle and reaching for his glass of water, taking a long swig. “If you’re coming here to drag me out onto the dance floor, I’m out of commission for at least three songs,” he laughed, shaking his head as Clementine walked over. “My legs are jello.”

“Two months out of the season and you’re already out of shape?” She smiled, smacking her lips and shaking her head. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Bednar.”

Tyson rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her down to sit on his lap. “I’m in perfect shape, which you should know,” he mumbled, kissing her cheek as she draped an over the back of his chair. “I’m just tired from kicking JT and Nate’s ass in that epic dance-off.”

“Was it really epic though?” She asked, wrinkling her nose. “Nate’s stiff as a board and JT’s go-to move was the lawnmower. I’ve seen drunk frat bros go more epic than that.”

“I’m just saving my moves for someone who’s worthy,” he shrugged, his left hand resting on the left side of her waist as his right rested on her right thigh. “You don’t have to sit here with me if you want to go dance, I won’t mind.”

“I’m okay,” she replied, leaning further into his chest. “I’m kind of getting tired.”

“Mmkay, you can sit here then,” he replied, pressing a kiss against her shoulder as they looked out towards the crowd.

Transitioning from friends to couple wasn't that hard for them in the basic, day-to-day life kind of sense. But at the beginning, there were always those moments when they’d hesitate to hold hands or each other, even leaning in for a kiss or cuddling in bed, because they’d forget that there was no need to worry about it being awkward because they weren’t friends showing the small amounts of affection, they were a full-on couple.

By the end of their first month, it became more natural and Tyson wondered why they hadn’t decided to cross that line earlier. And when he asked Clementine what she thought, she said that she was nervous to ever say anything because she always thought that he saw the two of them as just friends, since they’d been best friends for so long. They laughed when Tyson told her the same and then they cuddled on the couch in each other’s arms and fell asleep.

“Let’s go ahead and slow it down for all the love birds out there with a sweet classic,” the DJ spoke, the fast-paced song easily fading off into a country classic.

“Tyson!” Clementine gasped, sitting up and turning towards him, shaking his shoulder. “This is from-“

“Pure Country, I know,” he laughed, squeezing her sides as she stood herself up off of his lap. “You love that movie.”

And she did. It was one of Nana Blake’s favorite movies because she was such a big George Strait fan and with Clem kind of attaching herself to Nana Blake, especially that first year and a half of living with them, it meant that she watched it too. And if she watched it, Tyson watched it...once...twice...any time she wanted to– it was her comfort movie. More importantly, the scene that this song was from– was one that always, always made her cry.

“Come on, let's dance, please?” She pouted, jutting out her bottom lip dramatically.

“Clem–”

“Please, please, please, pleasssseeeeee,” she whined, taking the glass out of his hand and putting it down onto the table before grabbing both of his hands and trying to tug him up. “You’ll be my forever best friend if you do.”

“I’m already your forever best friend,” he laughed, exhaling heavily soon after as he saw her pout even more. “But I guess I can dance to this song.”

“Hurry, we’re going to miss it.” She replied, intertwining her fingers with his and dragging him out onto the floor.

“The song just started, Clem. It’s barely in the first chorus,” he laughed as they came to a stop and he placed his left hand on the small of her back as he took her left hand in his right, holding onto it as she held onto his left shoulder with her right. “I can always go up and ask the DJ to start it over if you want?”

Clementine rolled her eyes, resting her head against his shoulder as they swayed there on the dance floor, Gabe and Mel only a few feet away and the rest of the guests coupled up and dancing around them. “You can always just play it on your phone when we get back to the room and dance again.”

“I cross my heart and promise to give all I’ve got to give to make all your dreams come true. In all the world, you’ll never find a love as true as mine,” George Strait sang, the country song playing through the speakers of the reception venue.

“Considering this is our very first official slow dance,” Tyson spoke softly, his thumb brushing against the material of her dress. “Does this mean this is our song?”

Clementine lifted her head off of his shoulder, looking up at him. “Do you want it to be?”

“You will always be the miracle that makes my life complete. And as long as there’s a breath in me, I’ll make yours just as sweet. As we look into the future, it’s as far as we can see. So let’s make each tomorrow be the best that it can be.”

Tyson smiled, shrugging his shoulders lightly. “I think it should be.”

“Okay,” she spoke softly, smiling as she leaned up and kissed him softly, pulling back just enough as she brushed her nose against his. “It’s our song then.”

Tyson let go of her hand and cupped the right side of her face, kissing her again and brushing his thumb against her cheek before pulling away, keeping his hand there as he looked at her. “I love you.”

Her eyes went wide slightly, registering his words. Sure, they’ve told each other they loved each other– they’ve been best friends for fifteen years. But this was different, this wasn’t that familial, friendship kind of ‘I love you’ it was the romantic kind– and what better time to say the three words he’s felt for almost his entire life, than right now?

“I love you too,” she whispered, her smile giving him butterflies as she leaned up and kissed him again before resting her head back against his chest, intertwining her hand back with his and swaying slowly together on the dance floor.

Tyson put his truck into neutral and turned his wheel to the left before stepping on the gas, spinning his truck into donuts in the empty lot– the dirt and rocks kicking up beneath his wheels as he went around before straightening out and driving towards the other end of the revved his engine and pressed on the gas, turning his wheel again, repeating the steps and kicking up as much dirt until all he saw was one big cloud of brown dust starting to fall and settle back onto the ground. And once it did, he was greeted with the front of a Police car, the lights flickering on. Tyson sighed, putting his car into park as he saw the Officer get out of his patrol car and make his way over to Tyson’s truck. He rolled the window down as the Officer stopped by it and being that close, Tyson recognized him.

“I thought we agreed you’d stop doing this back when you were 17, Tyson,” Officer Fenderson sighed, leaning his arms on Tyson’s window.

“Sorry, Officer Fenderson. Just felt like taking a stroll down memory lane,” Tyson replied, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, trying not to think about all the times that he and Clementine used to come out to this lot late at night on the weekends or those weekday summer nights.

Most of the time they came out to get a little privacy that they couldn’t get in their homes, but sometimes, they’d just lay out on the hood of his truck or in the bed of it and look out at the stars since it was so far away from any street lights. Catch a sunset or a sunrise, and if they were feeling a little bored and wanted some fun, they’d do exactly what Tyson had just done– donuts in the empty field, at least until Officer Fenderson caught them for the fifth time and told them the next time he did, he’d tell their parents.

“Yeah, well memory lane or not, it was private property then and it’s still private property now,” Officer Fenderson replied, standing up straight and resting his hands on his duty belt. “You’re lucky I saw the chaos you were making as I drove by and no one reported you. I’m willing to let you go without even as much as a warning.”

“Whatever happened to ‘the next time I catch you, I’m telling your parents?” Tyson teased, rolling his eyes.

“You were 17, not 23.” Officer Fenderson replied, shaking his head. “Plus…” He broke off, looking into Tyson’s truck and clearly seeing the lack of passenger before he sighed. “Nevermind, just...get home, will you? We don’t need your Mom to be worrying.”

“Yes sir, I was on my way actually...I just decided to stop.” Tyson replied, holding back his sarcastic tone.

“I’ll escort you home anyway, that way I’ll actually believe you go home.”

“I don’t think that’s the–”

“Don’t worry,” Officer Fenderson said, patting the top of Tyson’s side mirror. “No sirens and definitely no lights.”

Tyson nodded, rolling his window back up as he watched Officer Fenderson get back into his patrol car before starting it and driving through the empty lot, leading Tyson out of the area. Tyson followed him all the way back to his Mom’s house, and when Tyson pulled into the driveway, Officer Fenderson kept driving down the road, signaling his lights and saying bye to Tyson before he turned down the road and disappeared.

The front porch light was on, but the lights inside were off, meaning that everyone inside was most likely asleep. Tyson dug his keys out of his pockets and unlocked the front door, walking inside to see the living room tv was on and his Mom was sitting on the couch. She looked towards the door as he walked inside and closed it behind him as she stood up and held her robe close around her.

“I didn’t mean to make you wait,” he said, hanging his keys up by the door.

“I was finishing up the news, it’s okay,” she nodded, walking towards him as she turned off the living room tv. “We missed you at dinner.”

“I know and I’m sorry,” he said, digging his hands into his pockets. “I just...I didn’t…”

“It’s fine, Tyson,” she whispered, resting her hands on his shoulders. “No one was mad and we all understood. I just wish you didn’t feel like you had to go through it alone.”

“I do, I know,” he sighed, nodding. “I just, I don’t want to make anyone else feel uncomfortable.”

“You won’t, sweetie,” she said, giving him a hug and kissing his cheek. “We all understand how you’re feeling right now, so if you ever need to talk or vent...we’re here, okay?”

“Goodnight, Mom. I love you,” he spoke softly as she walked down the hall to her bedroom.

“I love you too, sweetie. Now get some sleep.” She nodded, turning away from him.

Tyson walked up the steps to his bedroom, closing the door behind him and stepping out of his clothes, climbing beneath the blankets on his bed, and rolling onto his side as his phone lit up, illuminating the picture frame he had on his bedside table. It was a picture of him and Clementine when they were at the Fire and Ice festival when they were 11, arms over the other's shoulders and big smiles on their faces as they were bundled up in their winter gear. He sighed and picked up his phone, seeing a text from Gabe on the screen.

Cap’n Landy: See you tomorrow, bud! Let Mel and I know if you need anything! 💙

He turned the phone back over and placed it down onto the bedside table before picking up the picture frame, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of his room and able to pick out some of the small details. He couldn’t believe that this picture was almost 12 years old. Sometimes, those moments together felt like they had happened only a few years earlier.

But that was life, it went by in a blink of an eye and you never see it coming.

Even though his alarm went off at seven, Tyson stayed in bed well until nine. Hell, if he wanted to get technical, he never even fell asleep. At least he didn’t for more than an hour at a time. He just laid there in bed, feeling a heavy weight on both his head and his chest as the hours ticked closer to the morning. Eventually, he did get out of bed and take a shower to get ready for the day. He could hear everyone downstairs having breakfast and most likely already dressed and ready to go, but he couldn’t get his tie done correctly. Well, he could, but after having Clementine do it the last four years, he was accustomed to the way she did it, and even when he tried to copy her steps from memory, it never turned out right.

He huffed, looking back at his phone on his bedside table and walking over to it, picking it up and unlocking it, going to her contact number, wanting to call her more than anything.

“Knock, knock,” Kacey said, knocking as she opened his bedroom door before walking inside. “Are you ready to go?”

“I can’t get my tie right,” he mumbled, dropping his phone onto his bed and then grabbing the tie and tugging it off, tossing it behind him. “I just won’t wear one.”

“Let me try,” she said, walking over and motioning for him to give her the tie.

“I wear it a certain way, you don’t kno–”

“Clem taught me how when I started dating Tanner,” she replied, grabbing the tie and looping it around his neck. “So yes, I know exactly how you wear it.”

Tyson sighed and sat there silently as she started to tie the tie for him. He looked over at the picture frame on his bedside table and stared at the smiling faces of their younger selves. “I didn’t mean to make everyone wait for me.”

“It’s fine, Tys,” she spoke softly, focusing on his tie. “Besides, you didn’t. They went ahead, so it’s just going to be you and me in the truck.”

“I’m just,” he took a deep breath and sighed heavily. “I’m tired.”

“I know,” she nodded, finishing up his tie as she smiled softly. “But you don’t need to lie to me Tys...I know it sucks.” She sucked in her lips, exhaling as she brushed off the suit jacket. “It really fucking sucks.”

Tyson nodded, pushing himself up off of his bed. “Yeah, it really does.”

They walked to his bedroom door and Kacey stopped, picking up the stack of brochures on his dresser and turning them towards him. “Going somewhere?”

His eyes were glued to the London brochures and tourist spots as he reached out and grabbed one, shaking his head. “It was mixed in with some stuff back at the apartment. I just didn’t want to throw it out, you know?”

“London would be a nice vacation...especially after everything, you know?” She said, putting them back down onto the dresser before walking out of his bedroom door.

“Yeah,” he spoke softly, staring at the big blocked letters spelling out London as he sighed heavily. “I know.”

“Clem,” Clare smiled, coming up and grabbing onto Clementine’s hand, a big smile on her face. “I’ve been meaning to stop you all night, but I just wanted to say congratulations! I’m so excited for you, you’re going to love London!”

He watched as Clementine’s smile fell into a frown, sparing him a quick glance before nodding at Clare. “Thanks so much, I’m really excited.”

“And I bet you are too, right Tyson?” Clare looked at him, taking a sip of her drink. “I mean, it’s not every day your stunning girlfriend gets accepted into a prestigious university for her masters.”

He was definitely drunk, but he knew he wasn’t drunk enough to where he misheard her, and it was written all over Clementine’s face that she hadn’t wanted him to know yet...or at all considering, he never even knew she was applying to schools abroad. “Yeah,” he nodded, clearing his throat and forcing a tight-lipped smile onto his face. “Super excited.” He looked back at Clementine, nodding behind him. “Can we talk really quick?”

“Tys–”

He didn’t hear her out, just turning his back towards the two of them and walking towards the Landeskog’s kitchen where EJ was mixing himself another drink. “What’s up Josty? Heard your girls going to the good ole U.K,” he smiled, spinning the cap onto the Captain Morgan bottle before raising his cup. “Good thing both the Prince’s are taken or I’d say you’ll have a bit of competition there, right gov’na?” His horrible attempt at a British accent only made Tyson roll his eyes. “Sheesh, tough crowd.”

“Tyson–”

“There’s our scholar!” EJ cheered, bumping past Tyson and greeting Clementine with a hug. “Consider this my official request for you to buy me some tea and crumpets.” He didn’t wait for her to reply before he was walking off, leaving the two of them left in the kitchen.

“I was going to tell you.”

“Before or after you told my entire team and their significant others?” He asked, pouring more vodka into his cup. “Clare, EJ...if I go up to Nate or Mel will they know too?”

“No, maybe...I don’t know, I didn’t tell EJ!” She sighed, watching as Tyson walked around the kitchen counter and right by her. “Where are you going?”

“Outside,” he replied, sliding the Landeskog’s glass backdoor open and stepping out into their backyard.

He was fuming. Maybe it was because he was trashed and that’s why his anger is so excessive, or maybe it’s because he was genuinely that mad that Clementine had told everyone else this big news before him. He didn’t know what it was, but the cool night air and the feeling of victory heading into the Stanley Cup playoffs weren’t able to calm him down.

“Tyson,” Clementine called out, the sound of the glass door closing behind her as she followed him out into the backyard. “Will you listen to me?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Tyson replied, turning around and holding his hand to his chest. “You want to talk to me now?”

Clementine rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “You’re being ridiculous–”

“Am I though?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “Is it ridiculous of me to be upset that my girlfriend tells everyone else her big news before me? You’re the first person I tell any news to, I thought I was important enough for you to do the same.”

“Jesus, Tyson, I didn’t tell anyone!” She groaned, stepping towards him. “Ryan was there when I got the email and when I got excited, he asked what it was and I told him! He must’ve told Clare thinking I’ve already told you and the news just spread.”

“When did you find out?”

She sucked in her lips, sighing. “Monday.”

“Monday,” he laughed dryly, shaking his head. “That was almost a week ago, Clem! Why haven’t you told me?”

“Because I was planning this cute little reveal and I have a whole bunch of brochures and stuff and I just...I’ve been putting it together, but between packing for home, sending homes to the realtor, and then coming to your games and doing WAG stuff, I haven’t had the time to finish.”

“Well sorry for causing the delay,” he replied, rolling his eyes as he took a long swig of his drink. “You never even told me you were applying.”

“It was going to be a surprise…” she spoke, crossing her arms. “I applied at the beginning of the school year and I was doing all this stuff so that maybe you could come and visit me over the all-star break or something, and then depending on the finals, you could come over in the summer and we could do a little tourism and stuff–”

“Well you’re not going, right?”

“What do you mean?” She asked, looking at him confused. “Of course I’m going. It’s London.”

His eyes widened as he held his arms out to his side, dropping them slowly. “That’s a whole six months!”

She winched, hugging her arms to her. “It’s actually twelve...a full-year program.”

“Why?”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “What?”

“Why didn’t you ask me first? Why London? I-I mean, there’s plenty of grad schools here you can get a masters at–”

“I didn’t think I needed to?” She replied, shaking her head confused. “Also, because it’s the number one school in the country and they accepted me, Tyson. I got accepted into the top school over there and I-I want to see the world!” She said, shaking her head confused. “I thought you’d be happy for me.”

“And I thought that we talked about you applying to schools in Colorado, not across the Atlantic Ocean in the United fucking Kingdom!” He yelled, gulping soon after. “That’s– that’s...that’s not even– we wouldn’t even see each other!”

“You could always come for the all-star break–”

“And sit there twiddling my thumbs while you’re off in class doing posh shit?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “I’d rather go somewhere tropical like we always do. Together. Not in a place where it’s raining more than the sun is out.”

“Oh, God forbid you can’t sit on a beach for one all-star break and buy a ticket with barely a dent of your millions of dollars to buy a plane ticket to come visit me in London, right?”

“Yeah, well I’m the only reason why you even went to college,” he snapped, glaring at her. “You were too caught up in thinking you were too dumb to get in. But who told you to apply? Who helped you with your application?” He brought his hand to his chest, pointing at himself. “Me, I did. I’m the reason why you’ve even got the chance to go to London. The least you could do is let me fucking know it was something you wanted to do so I didn’t make plans you clearly have no interest in.”

“Wow,” she laughed sarcastically, shaking her head, staring at him. “I...I think I’m going to go home.”

“Why?” He called out, walking after her as she turned away and headed back towards the sliding glass door. “Because I spoke the truth? Because you know that I’m right and it was fucked up of you not to even tell me you were considering on applying?”

She ignored him as she walked into the house and maneuvered her way through the crowd, Tyson never yielding his steps as he got closer to her. “Tyson, leave me alone.” She snapped, looking over her shoulder at him as she stood by the bowl that was by the Landeskog’s front door, where everyone put their keys.

“Everything okay over here?” Mel asked, walking over and looking at the two of them warily.

“I’m going home,” Clementine said, digging in the bowl of keys and managing to find the ones to her car. “I’ll get my overnight bag tomorrow when I come pick him up,” she looked at Tyson, still angry. “Though it’s close enough he might just walk.”

“Real mature, Clementine,” Tyson dragged out, rolling his eyes. “Yet that seems to be your new pattern right now, doesn’t it?”

“Listen, I know you haven’t been drinking, but you’re upset,” Mel whispered as Jackie walked over. “How about we talk a bit outside and then you can sleep in Linnea’s room on an air mattress, okay? You shouldn’t be driving upset.”

“Let her go,” Tyson slurred, bringing the cup back to his lips. “Let her go home, to London, let her do whatever. It’s clear she doesn’t fucking care.”

“Hey, cool it Josty,” EJ spoke sternly, coming up beside him and gripping his arm.

Clementine clenched her jaw as she turned towards Tyson, glaring at him again. But once her eyes met his, they softened from anger...to hurt. “Out of everyone, I figured you would be the most excited for me. Because you’re right, Tyson. You’re the one who pushed me to go to school. I just wanted to surprise you, to show you how thankful I was that you did push me. I thought you’d be happy for me...but I guess not.”

“Clem–” Mel spoke, stepping towards her and speaking softly. “Really...let’s talk this out, we’ll go upstairs or we can even go outside.”

Clementine sighed, gripping the keys in her hand and holding onto her purse strap before nodding, turning towards the door, and opening it. “Outside.” Mel and Jackie walked out ahead of her, Clementine going to follow.

“If you go, we’re done.”

Her hand paused in the bowl on the table console that was filled with everyone else's car keys who chose to drive. As she turned around and looked at him, her brows furrowed as her eyes gauged the seriousness in his tone. “Go where? Home or London?”

“I don’t care, both.” He shrugged, shaking his head.

“Fine. Then I guess we’re done.”

“Fine. I guess we are.” Tyson replied, moving his arm out of EJ’s grasp and gripping his cup harder.

“It’s still early. I’ll grab my stuff tonight and head to Fiona’s.” She adjusted her purse strap on her shoulder and looked at him with heavy hurt in her eyes. “I’ll be gone by the time you get home tomorrow.”

She walked out of the front door, closing the door behind her and Tyson just felt numb. He brought the cup back up to his lips, EJ snatching the near-empty cup out of his hands as he stood in front of Tyson, an angry look on his face. “What the hell, Josty?”

“What?” Tyson asked, grabbing his cup back. “I need more booze.”

“What you need to do is get your head out of your ass,” EJ snapped, shaking his head. “You just let the best thing to ever happen to you, walk out of your life– sorry wait, you literally pushed her out.”

“It’s fine,” Tyson replied, rolling his eyes. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow or whatever.”

“If I were her, I’d block you on everything,” EJ said, walking towards the door and opening it. “And since you’re too fucking trashed to try and plead your case and explain why you’re being an asshole, I’ll go ahead and try to save your relationship for you.”

Once EJ walked out of the house and slammed the door, Tyson downed the rest of his drink, no longer feeling the burn down his throat before he turned around and nudged his way through the crowd and back into the kitchen, making himself another drink before walking back through the living room again and going up the stairs. He walked into the guest bedroom he and Clementine were supposed to sleep in tonight, pacing as he took sip after sip, feeling himself get angrier with each step he took. Once he finished the half cup, he sat down and kicked off his shoes, placing his phone and the cup on the bedside table before plopping down onto the bed and staring up at the ceiling.

The room was spinning and so was his body as his eyelids grew heavier and heavier until all he saw was black.

He could feel the throbbing in his head before he was even fully awake. His focus was how his eyes were dry and hard to open before it switched to what he could swear sounded just like his ringtone, but it had stopped before he could dwell on it.

Until it rang again...and again….and again.

He reached out blindly, his face pressed into the bedsheets as he kept his eyes shut and his hand smacked against the wooden bedside table repeatedly as he tried to find his phone. He huffed as he felt the phone case against his palm until he heard a thud, signaling that his phone...had indeed, fallen onto the floor, just as it stopped ringing again. When it started ringing again, he groaned loudly and exaggerated before slowly pushing himself up and rolling over onto his back, rubbing his eyes until he could get them open. He sat himself up and moved his legs over the edge of the bed before bending down and reaching for his phone as the generic ringtone kept going.

But just as he went to flip it over, it stopped and the screen was black. He pressed the power button– nothing. Tapped the screen– nothing. Held the power button down and the low battery light showed up– his phone was dead. “Figures,” he mumbled, tossing his phone down beside him onto the bed and rubbing his hands down his face.

He sat there for a little while longer, allowing himself to wake up before he pushed himself up off of the bed and grabbed his phone, running his fingers through his tangled curls as he opened the door to the guest bedroom he called home for the night– the bedroom that he and Clementine were supposed to share, but their blowup fight left him sleeping alone while she went home alone to their apartment. He walked down the hall and started to make his way down the stairs, hearing hushed voices that he was too tired to try and make out, but knew some of them had to belong to his teammates. The bad thing about so many of them seemingly being awake was that he was so hungover that even just their whispers were too loud. The good thing was that at least one of them had to have a charger he could use.

After all, he had one very important phone call and one hell of an apology to make.

The first person he made eye contact with was Mel who immediately elbowed Gabe as Tyson skipped over the last step of their staircase and made his way towards the kitchen island where he saw Nate, EJ, Ryan, and Cale all standing around the island. He conked out mentally before he did physically, drunk off his ass and being somewhat aware that it was Nate and Gabe who had to carry him up to the guest bedroom– but he didn’t think so many people crashed at the Landeskogs. He remembered seeing Nate and Charlotte leave sometime after Clementine did...yet, here he was– standing around the Landeskogs kitchen island.

The closer he got to the kitchen, everyone started to follow Mel and Gabe’s eyes and before he knew it, they were all staring at him, now silent and with expressions, Tyson was too hungover to read. He saw some kind of sympathy there, but it wasn’t exactly a secret that he and Clementine had gotten into a fight and pretty much broken up. He was more than sure they could hear them yelling through the glass door and not to mention the breakup happened pretty much in front of everyone at the Landeskog’s own french front door.

“Listen,” he sighed, shaking his head as he walked towards the island, taking a spot next to a nervous-looking Cale. “I know I got dumped last night, but geez, you guys don’t have to look at me like I died or something.” He missed the way Cale had inched away from him as he placed his dead phone down onto the counter, leaning against the cold granite. “Is there a phone charger down here I can borrow?”

When he looked up from his dead phone, everyone was exchanging glances with each other like they were communicating without words and about him. Mel had reached out and rested her hand on Gabe’s arm, giving him a subtle nod. “Hello? Anyone hear me?” Tyson asked, waving a hand between all of them. “Dead phone over here, I need a charger.”

“Tyson,” Mel spoke softly, looking at him. “You need to sit down for a second.”

“Mel, I really don’t want a lecture,” he sighed heavily, leaning further against the counter as he shook his head. “I know I was a momentous asshole last night and I plan on making it up to her today. Which is why I need a phone charger so I can call her.”

“Tyson...sit down,” Gabe spoke, his tone more serious in comparison to Mel’s soft tone.

No one else had said anything or had even spoken a single word since his foot hit that bottom step coming down the stairs. They’d only been taking partial glances at him, looking away before he could ever catch them– but that didn’t mean he still couldn’t feel their eyes on him, watching him as if they were waiting for him to do something or say something...he just didn’t know what.

“What? What’s wrong?” He asked, looking at Gabe before getting the nerve to look at his teammates, all of who immediately tried to avoid meeting his eyes when he turned their way. “Why are you all looking at me like that? It’s not like any of you guys haven’t gotten dumped before or have seen someone get dumped. I’ll be fine, I’m not broken,” he glared at them, daring them to look back at him with the tone in his voice.

“It’s not that,” EJ spoke, shaking his head and ready to speak again until Gabe cleared his throat.

Tyson looked back towards Gabe who was running his hands down his sweatpants and nodding at Mel. “What’s going on?” He asked his gaze following Gabe.

“Tyson,” Gabe walked around the kitchen island, coming towards him and stopping behind Cale and stepping into the space that Cale had created between him and Tyson, placing his hands on Tyson’s shoulders and looking at him. “Kacey’s been trying to reach you all morning...your Mom too. They couldn’t reach you, so Kacey called Barrie who gave them my number and your Mom called me.”

“Why? Are they okay?” Tyson asked, feeling his heart race against his chest and cursing himself for not answering his phone sooner. “Is it my Grandparents? Are they okay?”

“They’re fine, Tyson,” Gabe nodded, squeezing his shoulders supportively as he exhaled deeply. “It’s Clem. She...she got in a car accident last night, a drunk driver ran a light.”

“Oh my God,” he gasped, shaking his head as he tried to move from under Gabe’s hold. “W-what hospital? I-I have to go, I need to–” Tyson felt his heart drop into his feet, a knot tightening in his throat as he kept his gaze focused on Gabe’s, swallowing repeatedly to try and clear that heavy knot so he could speak.

“Tyson, no,” Gabe said, tightening his hold on Tyson’s shoulders and speaking stern enough to maintain Tyson’s attention, but still soft enough like he was still trying to tread around him.

“What?” Tyson asked, eyebrows furrowing as he shook his head again. “What do you mean, no? She hates hospitals. She says they smell weird a-and that they’re gloomy and,” he paused, looking away from his dead phone on the counter and back up at Gabe before letting his gaze drift back over to his teammates who still had that same look he had been previously unable to identify when he walked downstairs this morning.

But now he could. It was guilt, sympathy– mourning.

“Her Grandparents called your Mom this morning,” Gabe paused, his mouth twitching to the side as his Adam’s apple bobbed. “She died on impact–”

“No, no way,” Tyson scoffed, shaking his head as he tried to move out of Gabe’s hold. “Our apartment is like ten minutes away, it’s right down the street.”

“She was turning on to lake street when a drunk driver sped through the red light and t-bon–” Gabe kept his grip strong as Tyson tried to twist out from beneath his grasp. “T-boned her car at almost 90 miles per hour, Tys. Her car flipped–”

“No,” Tyson said, closing his eyes and ducking his head down towards his right shoulder, shaking his head.

“And she hit those trees right at the corner–”

“Shut up!” Tyson yelled, forcefully shoving Gabe back and into Cale as he looked up at everyone. “Someone give me their phone, I’m going to call her.”

“Tys,” EJ spoke, stepping out from behind Ryan.

“GIVE ME A GODDAMN PHONE!” He yelled, feeling the adrenaline rushing through his body as it started to shake, his jaw clenching as he tried to keep himself under control.

“Here, Tyson,” Mel spoke softly, sliding her unlocked iPhone across the island. “You can have mine. Her contact is Clemmo.” He heard the way her voice quivered off at the nickname that Linnea had given Clem, deciding at 1 and a half years old, that Clem was too boring.

“Thank you,” he said, grabbing her phone and turning away from his teammates, walking towards the front door as he scrolled through Mel’s contacts and clicking on Clementine’s contact name– her contact picture a snap of her holding Linnea at this past year's Avs Christmas family skate.

When he brought the phone up to his ear, he heard the monotone ringing in his ear. And it went on...and on...and on. “Come on, Clem,” he mumbled, leaning back against the wall, staring at the front white front door.

“Hi, you’ve reached Clementine Blake. I’m sorry I missed your call, but please leave your name and number and I’ll make sure to call you back!”

He remembered her setting up that voicemail message because he was sitting next to her when she did– the slight giggles fighting to leave her mouth were from him reaching out and trying to nudge her off of the bed with his foot and she had reached her arm, swatting back at him, telling him to knock it off.

He hung up, clicking on her contact, again and again, he was greeted with the ringing. “Come on, come on, come on,” he whispered, crossing his left arm across his torso. “Hi, you’ve reached Clementine Blake–” He could feel his heart race against his chest as he repeated the steps, again. Hang up, listen to it ring, reach her voicemail.

Hang up, listen to it ring...reach her voicemail again, and again...and again.

He turned away from the front door and rested his back against the wall, his eyes immediately landing on a family portrait of the Landeskogs that Tyson had also seen as a post, Gabe had posted onto Instagram. That was supposed to be him and Clementine years down the road– they’ve talked about it in late-night, half-awake conversations...but still, they talked about it. That was supposed to be their future.

And now…

“Tyson…” He turned to see EJ walking over to him, his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, slowing down as he got closer to where Tyson was standing as if he was wary to approach.

“She’s just busy o-or ignoring me, right?” Tyson asked, looking up from her contact picture as he felt his composure start to slip and he felt a tremor in his jaw. “She’s not...she’s not…” he shook his head, and exhaled heavily, looking up to keep the tears at bay.

EJ and Jackie had to be the last ones to see her before she drove off. Cause it was EJ who pulled Tyson away from the area of the front door last night right as their argument came to an end while Jackie and Mel went outside to talk to Clementine. And after telling him to get his head out of his ass, EJ went after Clementine too and Tyson went back to the kitchen to fill his cup back up with more alcohol.

Alcohol he would be drinking while Clementine would be dying minutes later at the hands of a drunk driver.

“Her grandparents are trying to find a flight to come in. They need to identify–”

“No!” Tyson gasped slightly, shaking his head as he looked back at EJ. “They’re in their 70’s, they...they can’t do that. Someone else has to.” EJ’s Adam’s apple bobbed as his frown somehow deepened. “What?”

“You’re...you were her number one emergency contact. You and her grandparents,” EJ spoke softly. “So...when you didn’t answer, they called them. They’re positive it was her because her purse was in the car with her I.D. and credit cards...but there still needs to be an identification.”

Tyson felt his throat dry up and all but close as EJ’s words finally settled in his mind. It had to be him, he had to be the one to give them a positive I.D. that it was in fact Clementine who was in the car. He didn’t want to do it– identify whether or not the person in her car was his dead girlfriend or not, but he had to. There was no way her grandparents would be able to, not at their age. He was more than positive they were most likely not even taking the initial news well.

She was his best friend and girlfriend, but she was also all her Grandparents had. There was no way, now that he knew there was a choice, that he was going to let them be the ones to have to walk into that hospital and identify their only Granddaughter.

It had to be him.

He locked Mel’s phone and took a deep breath before nodding at EJ. “Who do we have to call?”

Tyson called his Mom while on Mel’s phone while Gabe called Coach Bednar and explained what had happened, who not only canceled their afternoon practice that day, but had offered to call and talk to Sakic and explain on behalf of Tyson. It was a rushed conversation with his Mom that he didn’t want to have while standing in front of all of his teammates– assuring her that he was fine and that he’d call her later, when all he wanted to do was breakdown, not from his own pain, but from even hearing the soft sobs from his Mom. Clementine was like another daughter to her, so he could only imagine how she was feeling too. But he needed to be strong, he couldn’t allow himself to let the little composure he had left, wither away before he had to go drive to whatever hospital and identify Clementine. His Mom had given him the number of the Officer in charge of her case that had called Clementine’s Grandparents to notify them after they had given it to her in the event that they couldn’t get into contact with him if they were on a flight.

The phone call wasn’t long. He set up a time to meet with the Officer at the Denver County Medical Examiner’s Office who told him that he’d explain to Tyson what had happened last night when they met up, not wanting to talk over the phone. Gabe offered to let Tyson take a shower and since he and Clementine were originally supposed to stay over at the Landeskogs anyway, he had a bag packed and sitting in the guest bedroom he’d fallen asleep in last night. He had gone upstairs to take a shower without saying anything to his teammates, just wanting nothing more than to be alone.

In the shower, he thought that maybe he’d be able to let the grip on his composure loosen just a little bit, but with every deep breath and heavy exhale that followed...the tears didn’t come. His head was throbbing, both from his hangover and his brain trying to process everything that had happened. In a little under 12 hours, he’d gone from getting into a fight with his girlfriend...to needing to go to the hospital to identify her remains. Their apartment had turned into his. Everything they shared was now...only his. The surprise graduation trip he had planned for them to take to the Bahamas needed to be canceled. He needed to call the realtor back home in Alberta and let them know that they wouldn’t be looking for a small family home this offseason because now there was no family to have.

It was just him. He’d spent the last 18 years with her by his side as his best friend and the last three as his girlfriend– his longtime soulmate.

But now she was gone and he was alone.

Gabe drove him to the Denver County Medical Examiner’s Office where he met the Officer– Officer Macon– in the parking lot. They shook hands and Officer Macon offered Tyson his condolences before giving him a summary of what had happened. Like Gabe said, Clementine had a green arrow and was turning onto lake street when a driver coming from her right sped through the red light and t-boned her car. He said that the driver had a blood-alcohol level of .16, which is twice the legal limit, and was driving at speeds of 90 miles per hour. The speed limit was 45. It was the speed, Officer Macon suggested, being the reason why the crash turned out to be fatal. The 90 miles per hour versus the 15-20 miles per hour Clementine was driving when making her turn, being the cause for her car flipping twice before it hit the trees at the corner of the street.

Tyson had asked about the driver, purely for selfish reasons. He wanted to know what kind of person had such little common sense that they would get behind the wheel of a car when they were so drunk.

16.

It was a newly 16-year-old boy who was driving back from a lacrosse teammate’s end-of-season party that had been held shortly after their school official team party. He was running late for curfew and lived in the neighborhood that was across the street from their apartment complex. He got ejected through the windshield since he wasn’t wearing his seatbelt and his parents were at Denver Health, preparing to say goodbye to their 16-year-old son after they decided to go through with the little box he checked when he got his license, choosing to be an organ donor.

He wanted to be mad, he wanted to be so mad that he could easily find himself hating that kid for what he did. That kid should’ve known better, he should’ve just called his parents and said he was staying at his teammate's house. But he didn’t and now, two lives were cut tragically short. He wanted to be mad, but he knew Clementine wouldn’t want him to hold a grudge– “he’s just a kid. Don’t you remember the stupid things we did when we were 16?” She’d say, he knew she would. But still, driving when near plastered wasn’t one of the stupid things they did and they certainly hadn’t killed anyone. So instead, he tried to focus that anger away from the kid and somehow turn it into grief for his parents. They and Tyson both were saying goodbye to people they had loved more than anything.

And it helped a little bit, but just barely.

Officer Macon had led Tyson and Gabe inside the building, which was a lot less dreary than Tyson thought it would be. After talking to the woman at the front desk, Officer Macon had let Gabe and Tyson further into the building and down a hall, into a small hospital-like waiting room, leaving them for only a few moments before coming back with a clear bag. He placed it down onto the table, and Tyson had stopped pacing around the small room long enough to look at it. Inside was Clementine’s purse and wallet– the black Saint Laurent set he had gotten her for her birthday four months earlier.

“Do you recognize this purse and wallet?” He asked, looking at Tyson.

“Yes,” Tyson replied, nodding his head. “I got that for her birthday back in February.”

Officer Macon reached into the plastic bag with latex gloves on his hands and pulled out the wallet, opening it and turning it towards Tyson. “Is this her license?”

Tyson was too focused on the dark spot dried against the black leather of her purse to answer his question. Had she accidentally spilled something on it last night? Had it happened before and he was just now noticing it? Or was that blood?

“Tyson,” Gabe spoke, bringing him out of his own thoughts. “Her wallet.”

Tyson nodded, looking back down at her driver's license, remembering when she had called him when he was playing in the BCHL all excited and bragging about how she had gotten her license a full month before him. And he joked back with “good, maybe I might wait to get it so you can be my chauffeur this summer.”

“Yes, that’s her license.”

“Okay, thank you,” Officer Macon spoke calmly, putting Clementine’s purse and wallet back into the bag and sealing it. “I’m going to go ahead and talk to someone to let them know you’re here to identify her.”

The moment the door closed, Tyson started to pace around again, cause at least when he was walking around, he could keep his focus on making sure not to bump into Gabe, the table, or any of the chairs. But if he were to stand still, waiting for Officer Macon to come back, he was scared that being stagnant would allow his mind to wander into places he couldn’t handle being in.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Gabe asked arms crossed as he watched Tyson walk by him once more.

“Huh?”

“Into the room to ide...see her,” he corrected, bringing his arms into him more. “Do you want me to go with you?”

Tyson hadn’t even thought about that– whether or not he wanted Gabe to go in with him or not. He’d just been spending every moment from the time he realized it would need to be him who had to positively say that it was Clementine who had been in her car when the crash happened, preparing himself for that feat alone.

“Oh, um…” he stopped walking and turned towards the table, standing across from Gabe as he chewed on his bottom lip. “No, I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“You don’t have to, Josty,” Gabe replied, standing up straight and turning around to face him, no longer needing to look over his shoulder. “Clem was your family, which made her like our own family. We’re all here to support you in any way that we can and right now if you need me to go into that room with you or you decide that you can’t do it– I’ll do it for you. Whatever you need, Josty.”

The door opened back up and Officer Macon came in with a woman who was wearing a pair of black slacks and a flowy long sleeve dark green shirt that was tucked in. “Tyson, Gabe, this is Dr. Loughlin, she works as a grief counselor here. Dr. Lapid, the Chief Medical Examiner is just down the hall.”

“You can call me Kacie,” the woman said, extending her hand.

“I have a sister named Kacey,” Tyson said, shaking her hand. “Are you -ey?”

“-ie,” she smiled politely, keeping her hands in front of her. “I’m sorry for your loss. I’m here to help you through the process of identifying your loved one, who I’ve been told is your girlfriend?”

“Yes Ma’am,” Tyson nodded, speaking softly.

“Again, I’m very sorry for your loss Tyson. My job is really just to provide you with support and answer any questions that you have in regards to what happens from here. I’ll also be there with you in the room when we meet with Dr. Lapid.” She turned towards the door, looking back at Tyson. “Are you ready to go?”

He wanted to say no, thinking that maybe if he didn’t leave this room, it wouldn’t be true. But he knew that wasn’t how this worked and that it didn’t matter if he decided to spend the rest of his life in this room– Clementine would still be gone. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Is it just going to be you?” She asked, looking over his shoulder at Gabe.

Tyson turned around and saw that Gabe had uncrossed his arms and put his hands in his pockets. He nodded and looked back at her. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Follow me,” she spoke softly, walking out of the room. Tyson followed obediently, his hands in the pockets of his gym shorts as they walked further down the hall and away from the comfort of that tiny waiting room. “So when we go in, it’s not going to be like you see on these shows like C.S.I. or any of the Law and Orders. It’ll be in a room similar to that of the ones you sit in when you go to your Doctor for a yearly checkup. Clementine will be on the table fully covered by a sheet and whenever you’re ready, Dr. Lapid will pull back the sheet to her shoulders.”

“I get to see her?” He asked, looking up from the floor.

“Yes. Now, she does have some bruising and cuts on her face, as well as a burn by her neck from the seatbelt,” they came to a stop outside of a closed door and Kacie turned to him. “I’m going to be real with you Tyson, it’s going to be very hard to see Clementine like this. Officer Macon showed me her driver's license and I will say that while she looks like you’re used to seeing her, just with a few cuts and bruises, it’s going to be very difficult. She’ll be pale and if you do choose to touch her, she’ll be cold. This can be re-traumatizing for you and I’m going to let you know now, that it won’t be easy.”

He nodded and Kacie turned around and knocked on the door before opening it a few seconds later. Tyson could see a woman dressed in navy blue scrubs standing by the end of a metal rolling cart and when Kacie opened the door the rest of the way he could see a resting figure beneath the thick white sheet. He froze as Kacie walked into the room, turning around to look at him as his hands clenched into fists inside of his shorts pockets, his mind willing him to step inside of the room.

And he did. He stepped into the room, Kacie closing the door behind him as soon as he did before standing beside him and resting a hand on his shoulder. “Tyson, this is Dr. Lapid, the Chief Medical Examiner.

“I’m sorry to meet you under these circumstances, Tyson,” Dr. Lapid nodded, her hands clasped in front of her. “Do you have any questions before I pull back the sheet?”

Tyson pursed his lips, shifting his mouth side to side as he stared at the haunting sheet and feeling the tears burn in his eyes. “Was she,” he sniffled, trying to stop his tears from falling. “Did she…”

It was like Dr. Lapid knew what he was trying to ask and she shook her head. “No, we don’t believe so. The force likely incapacitated her on impact. I was told that they were able to get a heartbeat in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, but that she had flatlined multiple times in transition care but that they were able to get her stable enough to get her into CT, but right at the end of it she crashed right and they were unable to resuscitate her.”

He brought his right fist out of his shorts pocket and bit down onto the side of his index finger as he crossed his left arm, resting his right elbow on top of it. “So she was alive?” He asked, looking back at her, shaking his head. “I thought she–”

“The scans they were able to get showed that while she did have a heartbeat, she had no brain function. So, it’s very likely that she did die on impact, but when they worked on her in the ambulance, using those life-saving measures and using the portable ventilator, did give her enough oxygen to where her heart was able to function. But yes, she was most likely dead the moment her car was hit.”

Tyson nodded, sniffling as he wiped his face with the sleeves of his sweatshirt. He took a deep breath and exhaled shakily, nodding his head. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Dr. Lapid walked closer to the table, slowly folding back the white sheet and stopping, like Kacie said she would, just at Clementine’s shoulders. She looked at Tyson and nodded her head before stepping towards him and over to Kacie, allowing him to walk closer to the table. He took his time in those few steps to get closer to the table, focusing on the white sheet for as long as he could before he needed to actually make the positive identification.

As his eyes moved up the sheet, he spotted the angry red burn mark embedded peeking from beneath the sheet across her chest and up her neck from her seatbelt. She was pale, her normally sunkissed skin now resembled the skin of the Cullen family from Twilight he used to make fun of her love for those movies— how was that even possible in such little time? But still, she did have some of her color to her, but it wasn’t much. There was bruising along her forehead and her nose, small cuts by her hairline, and a larger cut along her cheek.

But it was her. It was Clementine...Clem.

Suddenly, breathing through his nose wasn’t enough as he tried to stop his mouth from trembling. The heavy sighs left his lungs as the tears rolled constantly down his face, each swipe of his sweatshirt sleeve across his face only to have more tears take their place. He blew air out of his mouth, nodding his head as his eyes blurred with tears. “It’s her,” he exhaled, running his left hand down his beard. “It’s Clem.”

“Would you like some time, Tyson?” Kacie asked, speaking softly.

Tyson could only nod as he kept his back to them, too busy focusing on keeping his sobs at bay as he continued his efforts to clear his blurred vision. When he heard the door open, he turned around, not caring whether or not they saw his tear-stained face. “She uh, she has...had a necklace?” He asked, his left hand coming up to his own neck and resting against it. “It’s a gold chain and it had a 17 charm on it a-and um, this small locket with a pearl in the middle. It’s her Grandmother’s locket, she got it for her birthday because she’s supposed to-to graduate next week and–”

“It’s with the rest of her belongings,” Dr. Lapid nodded, giving him a sad, assuring smile. “Officer Macon will be able to give you all of her belongings.”

He nodded and watched as they walked out of the room, closing the door behind them. He took a deep breath and exhaled, turning back towards the table and staring down at Clementine. There was a chair to his left and he grabbed the back of it, bringing it up behind him and sitting down, his feet bouncing against the floor the moment he sat down and rested his hands in his lap. He was waiting for it to sink in, the fact that she was gone– but even with her lying directly in front of him...he still couldn’t accept it.

“I–” he spoke, the words catching in his throat as he closed his mouth again, shaking his head as his legs began to bounce faster. He looked at her side and noticed that part of her hand was poking out from beneath the sheet. He reached out hesitantly and lifted the sheet up slightly before grabbing onto her hand, the cold of her skin having such a heavy contrast against his warm palm.

Tears had blurred his vision again by the time he looked back at her. He’d never get to apologize for how he acted last night. He’d never get to tell her about how proud he was of her for getting into such a good grad program– that he knew she could do it, get into any school she applied to. That he didn’t mean it when he said they were done, he was just drunk and scared that she’d be going so far away. But that’s where their story ended– a drunken fight turned into a break-up. He hoped that she knew how much he loved her, that even in that last argument, she hadn’t driven home thinking he loved her any less than all the times he told her.

He squeezed her hand softly and held onto it with both hands as he kissed her fingers softly before resting it beneath his chin. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, voice quivering as the tears fell down his cheeks. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Tyson,” Kacey whispered, nudging his arm.

“Huh?” He asked, zoning back in and looking away from the casket up on the small stage and towards his sister. “What?”

“It’s your turn,” she nodded, squeezing his hand in support before looking up towards the stage.

When he looked back, he wasn’t lost in his thoughts, relieving the moment he’d seen Clementine that first time after he found out about the accident. He wasn’t standing in that tiny room at the Denver County Medical Examiner’s Office. He was back home in St. Albert, his entire team sitting in the pews behind him along with their families, as well as his own family, Clementine’s family, and all of their friends.

It’s been two weeks since the accident and anytime Tyson wasn’t on the ice, he felt like he was just on autopilot. Clementine’s Grandparents ended up not flying into Colorado because Tyson offered to take the flight that Clementine would be on when they had her body flown home to St. Albert. He stayed two days, taking in the comfort of his family before flying back to Colorado to join his team in their journey for the playoffs.

Coach Bednar and Sakic told Tyson that he didn’t need to rush back into playing, that he could have as much time as he needed, but that’s just it– Tyson needed to play. He had nothing else to take his mind off his personal life. After coming back from St. Albert, it took him three more days before he could even step foot into his apartment– too scared to even look around at the memories that decorated every inch of space, so he stayed at Gabe and Mel’s, occupying their guest bedroom. Their mornings in the kitchen, late nights on the couch, pictures on the walls. Kacie had given him some pamphlets and organizations to reach out to whenever he felt like he needed someone to talk to or wasn’t sure how to move through...well, day-to-day life without Clementine.

But getting back onto the ice– that was his first step, it had to be. Because every moment he wasn’t on the ice, he was suffocated with the reminder that his girlfriend was dead. It was all over ESPN, local media, and even country-wide media. It was on social media platforms, in his DMs, his comments and even tagged photos were being flooded with condolences from fans and athletes alike. He’d even had that 16-year-old’s parents reach out to him and Clementine’s family, offering their condolences for the decision their son– who Tyson had learned was named Oliver Roderick– had made. By then, the anger that he had towards their son had fizzled down into just pure grief, and Tyson too had offered them his own condolences.

It’s been two weeks since Clementine had died and the Avalanche had made it into the second round of playoffs. They were supposed to be playing tonight, but instead, the NHL had allowed them the night off so that they could travel up to St. Albert and attend Clementine’s funeral. Something that Tyson was adamant on that they didn’t have to do, but that all of them chose to.

“She was part of our family.” So, they would be at the funeral today and fly back later tonight to prepare for their game in two days' time...without Tyson, for at least the rest of the week.

“Now the family would like to welcome Clementine’s childhood best friend and boyfriend Tyson to say a few words,” the officiant spoke, looking in Tyson’s direction at the front pew. “Tyson, when you’re ready.”

He squeezed Kacey’s hand one last time before getting up out of his seat, and walking down the pew to Clementine’s grandparents, bending down and giving the both of them a hug before making his way up the small stage and towards the pedestal, resting the book he had in his hand on top of it before carefully adjusting the mic to his level.

“Hi, my name is Tyson, but most of you guys know that,” he said, clearing his throat before blowing out a huff of air as he looked out into the crowd, seeing the familiar faces of their friends all staring back at him. As he pulled the repeatedly folded piece of paper out of his suit jacket pocket and unfolded it, flattening it out on top of the book. “And well, I was Clem’s best friend since our first day of kindergarten and her incredibly handsome boyfriend for the last three years.”

He laughed softly along with the mingled laughter in the crowd before he took a deep breath and exhaled, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Clem and I met, like I said, on that first day of kindergarten. But it wasn’t the generic, ‘here let’s share our snacks’ or ‘do you want to play with me on the playground’ kind of first meeting, no. Clem and I met at a table we’d both been assigned to sit at.”

“Our teacher, Mrs. Clemmons who’s actually just right over there,” he spoke, pointing out towards the right side of the church. “She had handed out a bunch of coloring sheets just to get us to pass the time I guess. So I was coloring my little sheet, which was a farmhouse with a big tree in the front yard and a dog sitting on the lawn. Now,” he cleared his throat, rubbing his right hand along his beard. “I’m color blind, have been since I could remember and I can’t tell the difference between red and green, they’re gray to me. So of course, I asked one of the guys next to me if he could tell me which crayon was green so I could color my tree. He pointed, I picked it up, said thanks, and started to color the tree.”

Tyson smiled, laughing softly to himself. “I’m halfway done with my tree when Clem comes strolling over to the table with her coloring sheet in hand, having requested a new one because she didn’t want to color the same sheet as any of us at the table. She sits down next to me and right when she goes to reach into the bucket for a crayon she stops, looks at me, and says ‘why are you coloring your tree red? Are you blind or something?’” Everyone in the crowd laughed and he nodded, laughing too. “I remember being so nervous because I barely knew how to explain it myself, I was five! But I ended up telling her that red and green just look grey to me and she snatched the red crayon out of my hand and then handed me another one and said, ‘here, this one’s what you want.’”

Tyson smiled, shaking his head softly. “And then she proceeded to take it back and hold two crayons in her hand, telling me to guess which one was red and which was green. And when I guess wrong she just...shook her head, handed me back the green crayon and said ‘don’t worry, I’ll help you,’ and she would. Every so often, no matter what we were doing in class, she’d have a red crayon and a green crayon and make me guess which was which.”

He sighed, a smile on his face as he thought back on the fond memory. “I mean, I still can’t tell the difference between the two, but it was still nice that she tried. And whenever I’d get it wrong and get all sad, she’d just say, ‘it’s okay Tyson, we’ll figure it out, you’ve got this.’ And that’s how it was most of our lives. Clem rooting for me and telling me I could do all these great things while being by my side and helping me whenever things got rough.”

Tyson looked towards his left at one of the picture frames on display– a grad photoshoot she had done two weeks before the accident. The one her Grandparents had picked was a consensus picked favorite– a photo of her standing at a spot on campus wearing the mid-thigh tropical floral dress she’d bought for the occasion and her graduation robes, complete with honor cords and sash, holding her decorated– and art project she and Tyson completed together– grad cap that read ‘I wined a lot, but I did it’ and her signature big, hearty smile on her face.

“For the longest time, she always thought of herself as ordinary. ‘Tyson, I don’t know if I’ll even get it, my grades are so average.’ ‘Tyson, there’s no way they’ll choose me to be a group leader, people have better grades than me.’ ‘You want to date me? But you’re so ruggedly handsome and strong,’” he got the crowd to laugh again, anything to keep himself from breaking down in front of them as he just sighed. “She could never really see just how amazing she actually was and her determination always pushed me to do better– I wanted to do better for her. She was the reason I always wanted to be better– for my Grandparents, my Mom, my sister, but most importantly, for her. Because she was there most of my life, in that corner telling me I can do better and be better, no matter what the situation was.”

He looked back at the picture fondly before looking at the crowd again. “Clem was set to graduate from CU Boulder a week before she died. She got a B.A. degree in Psychology with minors in humanities and creative writing.” His gaze drifted down to her Grandparents, a sad smile on his face. “She was actually going to be giving the greetings from the graduating class speech at the beginning of the ceremony and was going to receive two academic awards. One was a Chancellor recognition award for maintaining a 4.0 her entire four years and the other was an outstanding graduate award for the college of arts and sciences. Something she made me keep a secret from both of you, Howard and Frances, because she wanted you guys to be surprised when they announced her name.”

“Clem used to get really stressed when she was studying and anyone who knew her during these last four years of undergrad knows what I’m talking about,” he laughed, looking towards his teammates. “Not now, Tys. I need to get an A’ and I used to tell her all the time that she wasn’t making any friends because she was constantly ruining the class curve,” he joked, earning another heartfelt laugh from everyone in the pews. “But that’s not true, she had tons of friends. Everywhere she went she made a friend, it was hard to find someone who didn’t like her. But God,” he sighed, shaking his head as he leaned his hands against the podium. “Man, she was extraordinary all around, she was just...great. I only hope that she knew because she could be so damn humble.”

He knew cursing in a church wasn’t the best thing, but he wasn’t sure if that rule was waived under these circumstances or what. Not like he cared in the end, it didn’t matter. He was grieving for hell's sake. God, the Universe, or whatever holy figure up there could grant him that much.

Tyson took a deep breath, exhaling again. “I had the utmost privilege of getting to have Clementine Blake in my life for 18 years. 15 of those, she was only my best friend. But for the last three, I had the honor of not only calling her my best friend, but my girlfriend as well. And I would do anything to get more time with her and to fulfill those dreams we talked about whenever we had a little too much wine while lounging on the couch.” He smiled to himself, throwing his memory back to being on the couch and having Clem leaning against his side. “A chocolate lab named fudge, a front porch swing on a wraparound porch and four kids– two had to at least be twin boys named Hudson and Hayden– she wouldn’t settle for less, and just...all the time in the world to live out our lives like our Grandparents. But as Clem used to say, life is short...so eat the dessert first.”

Everyone in the crowd laughed along with him and as it faded out, he leaned his elbows on the podium and clasped his hands together, resting his chin on top of them as he thought back on their last peaceful moment together, the night before the accident when they fell asleep on the couch together. “No, but really...life is short and you hear it all the time and you remind yourself that it’s true, life is short. But then, minutes later you’re back onto whatever you were focused on before.”

“But it is. Life is short, that’s all there is to it.” His gaze stayed down towards the carpeted church floor. “18 years go by in a flash and those next five you had planned never get to happen– that’s just how it is.”

A few seconds went by before he zoned himself back in, taking a deep breath and standing up straight, looking down at the book he had brought up with him. He picked it up, rubbing his thumbs over the cover before turning it towards the crowd. “For anyone that knew Clem, you know that she’s read this book like a million times. I used to ask her why she was rereading it and she just said, ‘because I like it.’” The crowd laughed and he shook his head. “And I never understood that, because she knows how it ends, you know? And when I told her that she replied with, ‘yeah, but some books are so good that they can still make you feel things like you’re feeling them for the first time every time you read it.’”

“And as you can see,” he said, tilting it down so they could see the folded pages. “She’s got a lot of folded pages because she was so against bookmarks.” The crowd laughed again as he turned it back to him, looking down at the worn cover. “But um, I sat down and read this book. She always wanted me to and I told her that I would one day...and well, I finally did it. It’s called ‘The Truth About Forever’ and it’s by Sarah Dessen, who I think Clem owned every book of hers. But the book itself is about a girl, Macy, who’s trying to navigate her way through life after losing her Dad suddenly. Everyone in her life is all wrapped up in their own things trying to make it through and she just feels sort of alone and unsure about how to get through it or how to even lead a normal life again.”

Tyson bent the open end of the book, letting the pages flip by fast as he looked down at it. “And all throughout the book there are little stars written by Clem’s favorite passages or quotes, but I only found one that was highlighted, as well as a little note written up at the top of the page with an arrow drawing down to it saying ‘REMEMBER!!!’ in all caps,” he laughed, finding the page and stopping, holding the book in his hands.

He looked down at the highlighted passage, his right index finger twiddling with the dog eared page up at the right corner. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, sighing soon after. “Life can be long or short, it all depends on how you choose to live it. It’s like forever, always changing. For any of us, forever could end in an hour, or a hundred years from now.” He paused, biting on the inside of his cheek as he let himself have a moment, calming himself down. “You can never know for sure, so you’d better make every second count. What you have to decide is how you want your life to be. If your forever was ending tomorrow, is this how you’d want to have spent it?”

Tyson closed the book and placed it down onto the podium, looking out at the crowd. “That was Clem, always wanting to try new things and never afraid to try something at least once. She was…” he swallowed the lump in his throat, still not over the way he acted on their last interaction. “She was about to accept a spot into a graduate program in London and I didn’t get to tell her this at the time, but I was...I am so proud of her, because she was finally starting to see herself as how I’ve seen her all along– amazing.”

“Clementine Blake, known to those close to her as Clem, occasionally, if you’re Linnea Landeskog, Clemmo, and if you wanted to get on her nerves, then Clemmie...was loved,” he laughed softly, looking down at the podium as he started to shift his mouth side to side. “She was– is loved by everyone in this room and everyone she’s ever crossed paths with. And she will be missed by everyone, I can say that confidently. What we can take from Clem is to live our lives to the fullest. Go out and do that one thing we want to do, but are too scared to. That’s all she’d want for any of us to do in her memory.”

“Her humor, her kindness, that goofy laugh she used to do when she would genuinely laugh and snort a bit, her voice…” He leaned more against the podium, biting down harder on the inside of his cheek as he took a deep breath. “I miss it all and I love all of those things she used to be embarrassed about because they made her...her. I’m going to miss her and love her for the rest of my life.”

He rubbed his right hand down his mouth exhaling deeply as he looked at his speech, seeing the last bit he had prepared. “Clem loved Glee, she watched it repeatedly. And in that show, there’s an episode where Finn, one of the main characters, dies and while everyone is mourning, his best friend is taking it the hardest. And he says to their football coach, that the line between the two years weirded him out because that line...is his entire life. Everything he ever failed at, achieved– was that small dash between birth and death.”

Tyson didn’t care if they could see the few tears that were beginning to spill from his eyes as he sniffled, nodding his head. “23 years was all she got on this earth and in this lifetime, but Clementine Blake had one hell of a dash because she was one hell of a woman.”

He nodded his head at the Officiant as he folded up his speech and grabbed her book before making his way down the stage and back over to his seat on the front pew, sitting down and staring down at the floor, his heart racing against his chest as he held the note in one hand and her book in the other, still refusing to believe that any of this was real.

Everything was a blur from the moment he stepped off of that stage and sat back down in the pew. The procession to the cemetery where Clementine would be laid to rest, the small service out there where everyone placed a single daffodil on top of her casket before the Officiant said a few more words and then reminded everyone that her Grandparents would be hosting a reception at their house just down the road. He was unashamed in the way the tears fell down his face silently as the Officiant spoke his last words and then dismissed the gathering for the reception. Even when he got up and thanked his friends, teammates, and coaches for coming, he didn’t bother to hide the tears anymore. He had spent the last two weeks trying to hide and hold back, but he was done.

There was nothing else to hold back anymore.

When things cleared out from the cemetery and he found himself standing in the middle of the Blake’s living room, he felt so out of place. Being in the room and seeing people express their condolences or even cry themselves as they snacked on cheese and crackers and other food there was to offer, he felt sick. And just like every time he wasn’t on the ice, he was in autopilot mode. Politely smiling at people when they came up to him to express their sorrow or hug him. Thank people for their kind wishes– he could hear them, he could see them and he acknowledged the fact that his mind and body were responding to their actions and words– but none of it felt real.

It felt fake.

After another person came up to express how sad they were for him, he took that break and booked it out the backdoor and onto the Blake’s back patio, sitting down in one of the plastic chairs on the wooden deck and leaning over, resting his arms on top of his knees and taking in the cool afternoon air. When he heard the door open, he groaned silently, wondering why he didn’t just wander off down the street instead where he knew he wouldn’t have been as easy to find. The footsteps stopped and from the corner of his eye, he saw Clementine’s Grandfather sit down in the chair beside him, looking just as worn out and exhausted.

Not that Tyson could blame him.

“I got really fucking tired of hearing people tell me how sorry they are,” he spoke, sighing heavily. “What the hell are their sorry’s supposed to do for me? Hm? All they do is make them feel better. Sorry won’t bring her back.”

Tyson nodded, staying silent as he reached into his left pant pocket and pulled out the small red velvet box, putting it onto the table and sliding it over. “Here.” The knot in his throat grew tighter when he finally got the nerve to pull his hand away from the box.

It was the engagement ring that Howard had given Frances 50 years ago. An 18 karat white gold ring with a .46 carat natural blue sapphire that sat in the center of ten smaller diamonds that rounded up to .45 carats. And at the end of last summer when Clementine and Tyson were going back to Colorado, Frances had given it to him since earlier that same summer, he had sat them both down and expressed his feelings about Clementine and how he hoped to marry her.

“Now why would you give that back?” Howard asked, eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at the box, not even reaching out to touch it.

Tyson swallowed, preparing for the backlash that would come the moment he told Howard that he was the reason why Clementine had left the party– that he was the reason why she was dead. “I’m the reason why she left the party,” he spoke softly, finding the courage to maintain his eye contact. “We got in a fight, it’s all my fault and I’m so–”

“Don’t you go and apologize to me, Tyson,” Howard replied, the pain in his eyes evident but the stern look on his face even more. “Not when you’re not to blame for this and not when you’re hurting just as bad as the rest of us are. I never want to hear you apologize to me or to anyone for this, okay?”

“But it’s my–”

“No, it is not your fault,” Howard said, turning towards the table and leaning his arms on it. “It’s that kid’s fault for getting behind the wheel drunk. Our Clem was right there turning onto that street, almost home,” his voice faded off as the tears built in his eyes as he cleared his throat. “And that kid, who did a very, very stupid thing...ran through a red light. It is not your fault.”

Tyson nodded slowly, chewing on the left side of his cheek as Howard slid the box back towards him. “You keep that and the day you ever find yourself a woman who you love as much as you loved Clementine, then she is the woman for you. You give her that ring. Or if you ever find yourself starting a family and have a little girl, you can give it to her instead. You keep my Clem alive when Frances and I are gone, you hear me?”

Tyson turned towards the table, resting his arms on it as he looked down at the ring, reaching out and opening the box, staring at the shined ring he’d been storing away in his locker at the arena. “I don’t think I’ll ever love someone like that again,” he spoke softly.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Howard said, leaning over the table more. “But son, Clem wouldn’t want you to stay in this moment of grief for the rest of your life and you know that. She would want you, whenever you’re ready, to try and put yourself out there. Like you said in that speech of yours, Clem would want you to be better, have better.”

“Yes sir,” Tyson replied, closing the box and placing his hand on top of it.

Howard got up and took a deep breath, exhaling as he placed his hands in his pant pockets and looked out at the setting sun as it started to touch the horizon. “We’ll get through this somehow Tyson,” he spoke, nodding his head. “I don’t know how or when...but we’ll get through it.”

He walked away from the table, stopping beside Tyson and placing his hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly before walking back towards the backdoor, opening it, and then disappearing inside.

Tyson sat outside for a little while longer, finding that this was where he felt the most comfortable and at peace. Maybe it was because no one was constantly coming up to him and talking to him or maybe it was because he could think fondly of all the times spent together in this backyard during their summers growing up. Whatever it was, he sat there, reliving all the memories until the top of the sun started to disappear below the horizon. It was then that he put the red velvet box back into his pants pocket and walked back into the house, avoiding anyone still lingering around who looked like they were interested in talking to him. He headed into the kitchen where he saw his Mom and Clementine’s Grandparents talking to Mrs. Clemmons.

“Hi sweetie,” his Mom smiled softly, holding her left arm out to him.

“I think I’m gonna head out for a bit,” he said, giving her a side hug as he turned towards everyone else.

“Okay, we’ll see you at home?” She asked, looking at him with a concerned look. “Are you driving somewhere?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, hugging both Clementine’s Grandparents as well as Mrs. Clemmons. “I just need to go off on my own.”

“Drive safe,” Frances spoke softly, the heaviness in her words hanging over them all like a weight.

Tyson nodded, and left the Blake’s cozy one-story home, and walked across the street and down three houses to the left to his own childhood home, where he had parked his car in the driveway after the service. He got into his truck and pulled out of the driveway and out of their neighborhood. He drove in silence, the radio had been turned down the moment he and Kacey got into his truck to drive to the church earlier in the day. He opted to stay with the silence, just listening to his tires rolling against the paved roads of their hometown. When he told his Mom he was just going to take some time to himself, he already knew where he was going.

He just didn’t want to tell anyone because this was really his one time to be alone.

He turned into the small shopping center, and pulled into a parking spot, just outside of the liquor store. He knew he’d be standing out in his suit as he walked in, but he didn’t care. He passed by the hard liquors and went right towards the refrigerated section in the back, his eyes skimming over the options as he walked along the way. He stopped and opened the door in front of him, reaching in and pulling out the small pink cardboard box of the Mai Tai Fling craft cocktail, a drink she’d come to love since their first summer as a couple spending all that time out on the lake back in B.C.

He hated it...at first. It was too tropical for his tastes and he kept teasing her and Kacey about how much they loved the drink, while they teased him back with the fact that just because it wasn’t beer, didn’t mean it was gross. She’d constantly tried to get him to admit he liked it or at least give it a shot, and by last summer came around and he and some of the guys hid up on a lakehouse in B.C., he had started to have a sort of liking for the drink.

“Come on, Tys, try it please,” Clem pouted, holding out the chilled can as they sat around the fire pit with some of his teammates and their friends from home.

“Absolutely not,” he laughed, shaking his head and nudging the can away. “You are not poisoning me with that tropical overload.”

“Just accept it, Josty,” André laughed, nudging the hood off of his head. “She won’t leave you alone until you do.”

“Yeah and besides, it’s a really good drink,” Clare shrugged, a smile on her face. “Ry hated it at first too, but he’ll have one now and then.”

“Pleassseeeee Tys?” Clem whined, pushing her bottom lip out further as she sat up, her legs still draped over his. “If you love me you’ll do it.”

Tyson snorted, shaking his head. “Is that what it’s come to?”

“Only until you admit that it’s a delicious drink and you’re just saying it’s gross because you don’t want it to ruin your tough-guy facade,” she replied, a playful smile on her lips.

He rolled his eyes, grabbing the can from her hands and bringing it to his lips, taking a sip. And while it was still too tropical for him, he was starting to care for the taste in general. It made him want to travel to Hawai’i with Clem and have a real, bona fide Mai Tai while sitting poolside or beachside of a resort.

But instead of letting the smile emerge on his lips from the actual enjoyment of the drink, Tyson smacked his lips together as he pulled the can away from his mouth, pretending that he was judging the taste. He crinkled his nose and looked at her, a smile on his lips as he shook his head and sighed. “I don’t know, I’m just not convinced.”

She leaned forward and tilted the can back up to his lips, a smile on her face. “Have another sip because I know you’re lying.”

“$14.50.” The man behind the counter said, bringing Tyson out of the memory. “I’m sorry for your loss. I know you’ve probably heard that a lot today and that shit can get real annoying fast.”

“Thanks.” Tyson nodded, digging into his pants pocket to grab his wallet.

“Clementine used to tutor my little brother back when he was in Grade 11. We had just lost my Dad and he kind of fell off the tracks school-wise. I guess they shared a math class and she offered to help tutor him to get his grades up. Ended up getting good enough grades to where he could apply to Uni the next year.” He handed Tyson the receipt, folding it up and tucking it into the pushed-in handle of the box. “I didn’t know her, but he talked highly of her. Seemed like she was a great girl.”

“She was,” Tyson nodded again, picking up the box. “Thanks for the condolences and yeah, they started to mean nothing by the time the fifth person came up to me...but yours are the first to feel genuine again. Have a good night.”

“You too,” the man nodded, returning to organizing the cigars behind the counter.

Tyson walked out of the liquor store and back into his truck, getting in and placing the four-pack down into the passenger seat. He started his truck and pulled out of the parking spot and then the shopping center, making his way towards his intended destination. When he pulled into the cemetery, the sun had gone down but there was still a bit of light outside and he knew he had about another few minutes before it was going to be pitch black outside.

Following the paved road through the cemetery, he came to a stop just by the section where he’d been earlier in the day. He turned off his car, grabbing the four-pack from the passenger seat before getting out of the truck and making his way across the grass and to the fresh pile of dirt. Not caring if his suit got dirty, he sat himself down by the side of the pile, staring at the paper marker that had Clementine’s name and information on it. He opened up the four-pack box and pulled a can out, holding it in both of his hands as he looked down at it.

“You were right,” he laughed softly, sighing as he opened the can. “I was lying about not liking it. I mean, I still think it’s way too tropical...but it’s not totally horrible.” He held the can out beside him and tilted it down towards the grass, pouring out the 8oz cocktail before putting the empty can back into the box. “And yes, I did just spend money to pour one out for you. Sue me.” He laughed softly, already knowing that she’d lecture him for wasting a perfectly good drink.

He bent his knees, resting his arms on top of them as he stared down at the dirt. “I know I’ve said it before, but honestly Clem...I don’t think I’ll ever stop apologizing for that night. And I know Howard said not to blame myself, but I do. I’m sorry for acting like an asshole, for giving you that shitty ultimatum and not telling you how proud of you I was instead. Because I was...I am still so fucking proud of you.” He took a deep breath and sighed, holding his hands together. “And I’m sorry that you never got to walk across that stage and get your diploma...or that your Grandparents never got to see you do it. I know how hard you worked and how much you wanted to make them proud.”

Tyson cleared his throat, sniffling slightly. “The school flew your Grandparents in last week for graduation. They invited me to go with them and the school had us sit up on the stage where I guess you were going to sit. And when it came time for the speech you were supposed to give, Professor Dodgson did it instead, which I thought was nice because he was your mentor and stuff. He talked about the graduating class and ended it talking about you and how much of a genius you were,” Tyson laughed quietly wiping his nose. “They gave your Grandparents your awards right after the moment of silence they had for you. And then when it came time to pass out diplomas and they called your name,” He sighed heavily, chewing on the left side of his cheek. “It was crazy Clem, literally so fucking crazy. I walked up with them and the crowd...it was insane.”

“When it was over, Professor Robbins had pulled us aside and gave us a shadowbox I guess some of the faculty from your major put together. They’d put extra honor cords, a robe set and copies of your awards and diploma in it for them– it’s really nice. I guess ‘cause they weren’t sure if your Grandparents were going to have you dressed in your cap and gown and stuff or what...but they did it and I know that everyone loved it.” He rested his chin on his arms, looking at her printed name on the small place card. “In case you didn’t know, which...I don’t know if you’re here or aware or how any of this shit works...but you’re wearing that dress you loved and took your grad photos in and they have your robes rolled up nicely next to you and used the blank grad cap instead of the one you made. They switched them out of the shadow box when they came home. Oh...and they put your degree in there with you too. They’re so proud of you, Clem...everyone is.”

He sat in silence for a while, taking in the soft breeze that was starting to build up as the darkness had settled around him. Part of him didn’t want to leave and he knew he could stay there all night, but the only thing that was telling him he should go home was the fact that he knew his Mom would worry. She’s been worried about anything he or Kacey did from the moment she got the call about Clementine.

He pushed himself up off of the ground and brushed the dirt off of his suit and bent back down to pick up the four-pack before standing back up and looking down at the fresh pile of dirt. “I miss you so fucking much, Clem. I’ve been missing you from the moment you walked out the door at that party. I really wish this all could’ve been different because I love you so much.” He wiped his hand across his cheeks, exhaling deeply. “It’s cheesy, I know...but I know I’ll see you again someday and I’ll be holding out for that moment for the rest of my life.”

Tyson took another deep breath and exhaled, nodding his head before turning around and making his way back towards his truck. He placed the box down into the passenger seat before walking around to the driver's side and getting in. He started the car, groaning to himself as the engine took a hot minute before roaring to life. He looked out the passenger window one last time before putting his car into drive and driving away from the section. When he came to the stop sign at the front of the cemetery, the silence he had found so much comfort in earlier, started to feel suffocating. He stared at the radio, unsure if he wanted to turn up just whatever song was on the radio, since after the George Strait incident earlier in the day, he had turned off his Bluetooth, no longer allowing his phone to connect.

But he turned up the radio anyway, and the moment he heard those first few notes, he smiled.

“And if along the way we find a day, it starts to storm. You’ve got the promise of my love to keep you warm.”

It blew his mind, the fact that twice in a day, this song had played and this time, he wasn’t wrapping it up as a coincidence...he knew it was Clementine letting him know she was okay. And the one reason he came to that conclusion was because when he’s in Colorado, he never uses his radio. It’s always on aux and the stations are his stations back here– their favorite station being the oldies country radio station.

She was okay and wanted him to know it.

He smiled to himself and turned the radio up a little bit louder, turning out onto the darkened road as he went to make his way home. He was the only car on the road and had his high beams on as he drove through the night, ready to be home.

Until he saw the flash of brown jump from the right side of the road just ahead of him, a deer standing in the middle of the lane. Tyson slammed on the brakes on instinct as he swerved to avoid the deer, seeing the deer move before he felt his tires leave the road and head down into the darkened ditch.

The song ending and glass shattering being the last things he heard before everything went black.

Tyson woke up gasping for air as he sat himself up in bed, his chest rising and falling at a pace similar to that of after finishing a shift on the ice. He could feel his heart racing as his shoulders slumped and he took in his surroundings.

He was back in the Landeskog’s guest bedroom.

His eyes widened and he turned toward the side table, throwing the blankets off of him as he rested his feet on the floor, not seeing his phone anywhere on the table. When he looked down, he saw his phone lying just to the left of his foot and he reached down to grab it, pressing the lock button only to be greeted with a black screen.

“Come on, no, no,” he mumbled, feeling himself start to stress when his lock screen failed to load.

He got up out of the bed and rushed towards the door, heart still racing as fast as his mind, whatever the hell that dream was, still replaying in his mind. Was it a nightmare? Was it his over version of final destination, preparing him for had yet to happen? When he reached the bottom of the stairs, would he find his teammates all greeting him with saddened faces?

Tyson hesitated once he reached the middle of the stairs, scared to find out. His phone was dead, which is what happened in his nightmare and he was only ten plus steps away from finding out if his teammates were waiting to give him the bad news as they stood around the Landeskog’s kitchen island. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling through his mouth before he continued his journey down the stairs, giving himself chills as he stepped on that bottom step and slowly made his way towards the kitchen.

He could hear voices talking, but they were a little louder than they had been in his dream and were accompanied by the sound of a kitchen sink and dishes clinking– plus the smell of food. This was a good sign, right? Unless they were making him food to comfort him before delivering the news. When he stepped into view, he saw Mel and Gabe in the kitchen, Ryan and Clare leaning against the island along with EJ and Jackie, the two couples probably occupying the other guest bedrooms.

But he didn’t see Clementine and he woke up in their designated guest bedroom alone...so she had to have driven home last night– there was no other option.

“Hey guys,” He spoke warily, stepping closer to the kitchen, looking at them, and waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Have you guys seen–”

“Don’t worry about it, Mel,” his head snapped up towards the other entrance of the kitchen, Clementine walking through the arched doorway and blotting at her shirt– one of Tyson’s Avalanche dri-fits from his rookie season– with a paper towel. “Gran has a pretty good stain remover secret, I’m sure it works for grape juice too.”

He dropped his phone onto the island and shoved past EJ and rounded the corner of the island and over to Clementine, immediately almost tackling her with a hug. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, squeezing her tight to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming as he buried his face into the crook of her neck. “I’m so, so fucking sorry.”

“Tyson–” she said, as he pulled away from her and cupped her face, kissing her before she could say anything else. She laughed into the kiss as he pulled back, kissing all over her face. “Tys–”

“You’re okay?” He asked, kissing her forehead before resting his against it. “You made it home?”

“No?” Her eyebrows furrowed as she leaned back, shaking her head. “Mel and Jackie talked me out of driving home. I crashed on an air mattress in Linnea’s room since she’s with Mel’s parents for the weekend.”

“You okay Josty?” EJ laughed, everyone, giving Tyson a concerned look. “Still a little drunk over there?”

“I’m fine, perfectly fine,” he sighed, looking back at Clementine and brushing his thumbs across her cheeks. “Go to London. I’m with you 100% and I’m sorry I was an asshole last night. I-I have no excuse besides I was just drunk and an ass and scared to have you be in a whole different country for so long. But I love you, you’re smart and you can do this.”

Clementine was clearly caught off guard by his rant as she stood up on her toes, pressing her lips to his forehead. “Are you okay? You feeling sick or something?”

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “I just...I didn’t mean it when I said we were done, I love you too much.”

She smiled, reaching up and cupping the right side of his face. “I love you too.”

He leaned down and kissed her, desperately pouring every ounce of love he held for her into that kiss before pulling back and pressing his nose against hers. “Marry me.”

“What?” She gasped, leaning back.

“I’m sorry, what?” Gabe echoed, almost choking on his water.

“I-I have your Grandmother’s ring in my locker at the rink, marry me...please?”

“Tyson, if you’re scared that we’re broken up...we’re not. We were both riled up from the fight and you were drunk, it was just angry reactions and words,” she said, furrowing her brows again. “You don’t have to propose to me because you think I’m breaking up with you.”

“I’m not, I mean– I am...proposing that is, but not because I’m scared you’re breaking up with me.” He took a deep breath and let the sides of his hands rest on her shoulders as they cupped his neck, his thumbs brushing along her jawline. “I...last night, I realized that I don’t ever want to live a life without you. You’re my best friend and I love you. We don’t have to get married now, or next year– we can wait until after you finish with your masters or even after that– whenever you want. I just...I didn’t want to waste another second without letting you know how much I love you and care for you.”

Her gaze drifted down to his chest as if she was lost in her own thoughts. “...and you want to marry me?”

“If you’ll let me, yeah,” he nodded, tilting her head up to look at him. “A chocolate lab named fudge, the swing on the wraparound porch and the four kids, running around in the front yard. Hudson, Hayden, and the others are to be named.” He nodded at her, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “That wasn’t just wine drunk talk, Clem. I want that so much, but only if it’s with you.”

He watched as her eyes took in his expression before stopping on his own as if she was trying to find the sincerity in his words– which wouldn’t have been hard considering he was being the most sincere and vulnerable version of himself.

“What’s going on right now– ow!” EJ whispered a thump. “Hey what was that for?”

“They’re having a moment, shush,” Jackie followed up.

“Clem?” He asked, brushing his thumbs against her cheeks again to get her attention back on him.

“You’re serious?” She asked, looking back at him.

“One hundred percent. A thousand percent, a hundred thousand–” He was cut off by her leaning up and pressing her lips to his, her arms wrapping around his waist and coming up his back. When he pulled back, he smiled, brushing his right thumb across her bottom lip. “Is that a yes?”

Clementine smiled, nodding her head. “It’s a hell yes.”

Tyson kissed her again, letting his hands drop to her waist and wrapping his arms around her, lifting her and holding her before putting her back down onto the ground and pulling away. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She smiled, reaching up and kissing him again.

“So…” they turned around to see their friends all standing in the kitchen. The girls had big smiles on their faces, while the guys just looked genuinely confused. “Does this mean we’re planning a next summer wedding?” Mel smiled, clasping her hands together.

“Oh uh, definitely not next summer,” Clementine laughed, resting her hands on top of Tyson’s as he wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. “It’s a 12-month program, so I won’t be back here till next September. But the summer after that?” She looked over her shoulder, smiling at Tyson. “I think we can make that work.”

Clare came over and grabbed Clementine’s hands, looking at Tyson. “Tys, we love you but now we’re going to steal her away so we can talk about wedding stuff.”

“Fine by me,” he laughed, letting his arms return to his side as Clare started to take Clementine away. “Wait, one second though.”

“What’s up?” Clementine asked, looking back at him as he pulls her back over.

“Do you still have that book at the apartment you love to read so much? Or is it back home in St. Albert? The Sarah Dess–”

“The Truth About Forever?” She asked, nodding her head. “Yeah, it’s on my bookshelf in the living room, why?”

“You think it’ll be okay if I borrow it for a bit? I believe I made you a promise that I’d read it.” He smiled, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

Her smile grew as she nodded like a kid in a candy store. “I’ll grab it for you when we go home.” She leaned in and kissed him again, Tyson easily savoring the feeling before she pulled away. “Also, we’ll need to call everyone and let them know. We can wait though till you get the ring out of your locker if you want.”

“Hell no, I’ll get someone to let me into the arena tonight I don’t care,” he mumbled, kissing her again. “But I’m putting that ring on your finger today.”

“All right, children, that's enough kissing,” Gabe said, walking over and placing the spatula he was using to cook breakfast. “Separate or we’ll be forced to put you in separate rooms.”

“Gabe, stop,” Mel replied, rolling her eyes. “But really Tys...give us Clem.” She reached over and grabbed Clementine’s hand and dragged her out of the kitchen with Jackie and Clare, the four of them going into the living room and leaving the guys in the kitchen to finish breakfast.

“So uh...you give her an ultimatum last night and then this morning you propose?” Gabe asked, him and Tyson walking back towards the island. “Care to explain the switch up in oh I don’t know...the last nine hours?”

“I don’t know,” Tyson leaned against the island, shrugging his shoulders. “I guess I just realized that when she walked out of the door last night, it was like watching my future go with her and that’s something I never want to experience.”

“...So you propose?” EJ laughed, taking a sip of his water. “I think an apology would’ve worked.”

Tyson rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but we’ve talked about our future together and I just decided that I don’t want to wait anymore before we take that first step.” He looked out towards the living room as Clementine was smiling and nodding along to something Jackie had said and he smiled. “Why wait to start when you’re not guaranteed forever?”

The three men looked at him, before EJ nodded, taking a long sip of his water. “Dibs on best man.”

“What makes you think you’ll be the best man?” Gabe scoffed, waving his spatula at him. “Maybe he’ll make me the best man.”

“I think you’re both failing to realize that I,” Ryan smiled, pointing to himself. “Not only look great in a suit but would make an amazing best man.”

As the three argued about who would be the best man, Tyson knew that each were doing it playfully. He snuck another look into the living room at the four women talking. Almost as if she had sensed that he was looking at her, Clementine looked over her shoulder at Tyson with a smile on her face before she winked at him and turned back to join her conversation.

Tyson wasn’t sure if their forever started that first day in kindergarten or that first kiss on New Years three years ago, but he wasn’t going to waste another moment to find out. Whenever it started or however long they had, he wasn’t going to sit and daydream about their future anymore. They were going to start their lives together, officially, starting from this moment on.

And he’ll take whatever forever has to give just as long as she’s by his side.

#tyson jost writing #tyson jost one shot #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost fic #tyson jost oneshot #colorado avalanche writing #colorado avalanche imagine #colorado avalanche oneshot #colorado avalanche fic #colorado avalanche one shot #nhl writing #nhl imagine #nhl one shot #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #hockey writing #hockey one shot #hockey imagine

[raysofcrosby]

COLORADO AVALANCHE MASTERLIST

📝 NATHAN MACKINNON

○ when the lights go out in colorado, expect me there to hold your hand

#colorado avalanche imagine #colorado avalanche one shot #colorado avalanche writing #colorado avalanche oneshot #colorado avalanche fic #tyson jost writing #tyson jost one shot #tyson jost fic #tyson jost oneshot #tyson jost imagine #nhl writing #nhl fic #nhl one shot

[hockeysrus]

Masterpost (09/26/19)

This is a Masterpost of all of my fics as of September 2019! There are currently 33 pieces from about 10 different players, all listed under the cut.

There is now a directory where fics will be listed once they are posted

F = Female Reader M = Male Reader GN = Gender Netural

Tyler Seguin (Dallas Stars)

Buns In the Oven (F Reader)

Dating Tyler Seguin (F Edition) (F Reader)

Thunderstorms (GN Reader)

Wink, wink, nudge, nudge (Tyler Seguin Edition) (GN Reader)

Wink, Wink, Nudge, Nudge Pt. 2 (With Tyler Seguin) (GN Reader)

Wallpaper (F Reader)

Drunk Boy Blues (F Reader)

Sick Boy (GN Reader)

Leon Draisaitl (Edmonton Oilers)

Dogs & Tacos (F Reader)

Jamie Benn (Dallas Stars)

Kicking Open the Closet Door (M Reader)

Baby’s First Jersey (F Reader)

Stuffed Animal (F Reader)

Captain Benn (M Reader)

Wink, wink, nudge, nudge (Jamie Benn Edition) (GN Reader)

Wink, wink, nudge, nudge (Jamie Benn Edition) Pt. 2 (GN Reader)

Can’t Stop Crying (GN Reader)

I’m The Man Who Loves You (GN Reader)

Telling Him (F Reader)

Tattoos Because I Love You (F Reader)

Victory Green (F Reader)

Horny Hockey Hours (Control)

William Nylander (Toronto Maple Leafs)

Chasin’ You (F Reader)

Max Domi (Montreal Canadiens)

Cute and Sweet (GN Reader)

Andrew Ference (Edmonton Oilers/ Retired)

Rainy Day (F Reader)

Pride Parade (M Reader)

Mathew Barzal (New York Islanders)

Arcade (GN Reader)

Wink, Wink, Nudge, Nudge (Mat Barzal Edition) (GN Reader)

Wink, Wink, Nudge, Nudge (Mat Barzal Edition) Pt. 2 (GN Reader)

#43: If i have to stop what i’m doing, you wont be able to walk for the next week (F Reader)

Horny Hockey Hours (Sleepy Morning)

Mikko Rantanen (Colorado Avalanche)

Horny Hockey Hours #1

Tyson Jost (Colorado Avalanche)

Horny Hockey Hours (Dickwarming)

Pierre Luc Dubois (Columbus Blue Jackets)

Horny Hockey Hours (Dirty Talking)

#hockey imagines #hockey oneshot #nhl imagines #nhl oneshot #Tyler Seguin #jamie benn #leon draisaitl #William Nylander #max domi #andrew ference #mathew barzal #mikko rantanen #tyson jost